


Jaskier The Curse Breaker

by Lexitennant2



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Episode Fix-It: s01e06 Rare Species, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Child Abuse, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, cursed triss merigold, essi daven mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexitennant2/pseuds/Lexitennant2
Summary: After Geralt tells him to basically shove off, Jaskier is left heartbroken and reeling from the Witcher's words. He's ready to go on his merry way when he comes across a fox who is actually a cursed mage in disguised. Now he is forced to find Yennefer of all people for help, and they both have to track Geralt down for extra help when he is sure the Witcher wants nothing to do with him.Except when they finally come across the Witcher, everything goes to shit as it always does when destiny is involved.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 38
Kudos: 323





	1. A Friendly Fox

**Author's Note:**

> I've only seen the tv show and I have a vague idea of the games and books so I've taken some liberties with the monsters,magic, characters etc.

Jaskier was familiar with _rejection._ He would have everyone believe that all his lovers threw themselves upon him, but it was more so about knowing his audience; what woman or man would find Jaskier's features attractive, his constant rambling charming, and his seduction skills enticing. He had never expected Geralt of Rivia to leave the rejection category.

One could argue that Geralt had actually been in Jaskier's rejection category since the first time they met. Geralt thought he was too loud, too flamboyant, too useless, too cock-sure of himself, and the list went on and on over-lapping with others he'd tried to bed and had turned him down. But it was different because deep down - like really deep down - Jaskier knew that Geralt still cared for him, still thought of him as a friend. The Witcher had denied it but there was a reason he let the bard stick around. For all his stubbornness, Jaskier knew if the Witcher truly couldn't tolerate him then he'd have been left on his ass right from the get go. But no, Geralt had let him stay and gradually had opened up to him in the only way a man who's vocabulary seemed to be strictly 'hm's' and 'fucks' could. 

Jaskier had half-heartedly put Geralt into the rejection category and then put him in a new category when he started to notice the little things Geralt let him do. Being allowed to wash his hair, touch his arm in the middle of a story, seeing the small upward tick of the Witcher's mouth when he told a particularly bawdy joke. Those were clear signs that the Witcher was asceptiable to Jaskier's affections at least in a platonic way. So Geralt became the second friend in Jaskier's life. Because unbeknownst to most anyone he only ever had one _true_ friend before Geralt. He was only second to Essi Daven because the woman had befriend Jaskier first and also because he knew the blonde would be extremely offended and perhaps even smack him upside the head with her lute if he moved her name its spot.

And thus they had carried on together an odd ten years of a friendship that was both frustrating and endearing. And then Jaskier had fallen just a tad bit in love with Geralt and now that Geralt had swiftly moved from rejection to friend category, well there was no harm in adding him into a new category which if it had a name could be as follows, pining-over-but-will-never-attempt-to-seduce. Because even though Jaskier was certain they were friends, _best friends_ , he wasn't without doubts or delusions. Geralt had said every f-word except for friend. Jaskier had given the Witcher a decade of his life and if he didn't know Geralt like he did then he would have fallen into the false belief that everyone else did, that Witcher's didn't have feelings. They had feelings all right, Geralt especially. What he didn't have was the ability to speak in anything longer than a sentence. He also didn't seem to know how to process the said feelings and it had taken Jaskier months if not years to learn which 'hm' meant what.

So whenever Geralt spoke he spoke without metaphors. It was straight to the point. _Your singing is horrible Jaskier, you couldn't defend yourself if the enemy had no limbs and was rolling its way towards you Jaskier, if life could give me one blessing-_

Jaskier had shoved the doubt away because Geralt was a man of action and that had trumped over the small matter of the Witchers allergy to words. But then Geralt had actually used words. Words that could never be misinterpreted for anything else.

This wasn't a " _shut up"_ followed by look that encouraged Jaskier to continue, like when he'd been telling a long winded funny story and had made a particularly rude remark about some bigoted Duke. This wasn't a " _I don't need your help,"_ when Geralt was bleeding from an unreachable shoulder wound and would rather close up by itself and let it get infected then admit he needed Jaskier to help.

This was a straight to the point _if life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands._

And shit-shoveling. Jaskier in the Witcher's mind was the cause of every instance of bad luck they'd ever had. A shit-shoveler in a bard's body.

That felt eerily like something Jaskiers father would say which...he did not like putting Geralt and his father anywhere near each other in the category's in his head.

So Geralt had now moved from rejection to friend to...he couldn't go back to rejection because that was for lovers not for friends-who-turned-out-not-to-be-your-friend-and-had-only- tolerated-your-existence-because-of-pity? because of some weird self-punishment? He really need to work on a name.

So here he was now, stumbling his way down the mountain feeling more like a fool than ever. What was he supposed to do now? He felt lost. He was also feeling too much. Guilt, anger, fear, sadness, every other word for those emotions. He should stop at the tavern they'd been at when it all began. Jaskier was in need of coin now that he wouldn't get any share from the dragon fiasco, and _Melitle_ why did that feel like ages ago. It had to have been no more than three when he spotted Yennefer across the room and Geralt had said 'yes'. 

He clutched his lute tighter as his throat clogged with the need to cry. There was no way he could sing at a tavern tonight. Once again, contrary to popular belief, he had - _and would_ \- survive without Geralt. He'd done his fair share of camping out in the woods without a bulky mass of muscle protecting his back. Jaskier had been on his own since he was sixteen and he could handle himself thank you very much. It had been nice being able to stay back from fights and not having to worry about monsters chasing him when he had a Witcher by his side. It had been easy to add _pathetic bard_ to his repertoire and really it was Geralt's fault for never questioning what Jaskier did when they would go weeks or months without traveling together. 

Jaskier could just see the faintest of lights from the village below and quickened his pace. If he hurried enough he could get past the village and to the forest surrounding it by nightfall, then he'd be able to start a fire with some sun left to help him.

By the time he found himself in the forest it was nearly fully dark and he was exhausted and hungry and very heartbroken. Only one of those things could be fixed, so he dropped his bedroll, pack, and carefully laid his lute next to them before beginning to search for the right sticks and branches for a fire.

The days had been warmer as the Spring neared but not enough that the nights didn't still bring the bitter bite of cold or even worse - snow. Building the fire was a priority he would be stupid to ignore.

And while Jaskier could be naive at times or unaware of self-preservation, he was not _stupid._

He always traveled heavily with Geralt but the track up the mountain would have been too much for him or Roach to carry so he'd left it at the Inn next door to the tavern....which meant he would have to go back into the village and gather his meak belongings hoping no one asked him how the dragon hunt went. If he saw any of the dwarves, well he could at least ask them for some of the story if he ever decided to write a ballad for this awful adventure. But if he saw _Geralt?_ well he didn't think anyone would judge him if he just ran away instead of confront the white wolf. There was no need for him to hear anymore about how much Geralt wanted him out of his life. 

A stiff breeze shook him out of his thoughts and he untied and spread his bedroll out on the forest floor. He then reached into his pack and wrapped himself in a brilliantly blue coat. Horrible for camouflage but lined with enough wool and fur that he'd probably wake up sweating in the morning. With one last look at the fire and the determination to wake up early to go the inn, he fell asleep in his bedroll.

And no he didn't dream of Geralt.

But only because old nightmares, ones he hadn't had for a _very_ long time had decided to visit him again. 

††††

When morning came he was indeed drenched with sweat. The fire had died at some point in the night at least so he wouldn't need to dump what was left of the water in his leather skin pouch onto the charred remains. 

He squinted up in the sunlight breaking through the trees and pushed back his sweaty bangs from his forehead, shimmying out of his winter coat so he could feel the morning air on his almost soaked through doublet and trousers. He looked down at himself in disgust and climbed out of the bedroll to search for new clothes from his pack. There wasn't a water source near him so a toweling off and a new outfit would have to do. Jaskier would probably have to use more oil on his wrists and neck than usual to cover the scent of nightmare sweat.

Jaskier was just putting on navy blue high-waisted pants when he heard a rustling from behind. He whirled around immediately, cursing himself when he realized he didn't have his dagger with him. A rather beautiful one with an engraved leather hilt that Geralt had given him a few years back. He also didn't have his throwing knives which Geralt did not know about, those were tucked away safely in his other pair of pants. Which was rather inconvenient. There was another rustle, this time closer. The leaves of a near-by bush were shaking.

"Hello?" He called out, his eyes scanning everywhere for any resemblance of a weapon. "I know you're there! I warn you, I have a...I have this!" He grabbed a charred bit of stick and pointed it just as a fox came out of the underbrush. The two of them started at each other and then at the blackened stick in his hand.

"I'm usually more prepared you see." Jaskier frowned at the offending stick and threw it back where he had taken it from. The fox tilted its head and regarded Jaskier with something akin to disbelief.

"Oh don't give me that look," he wagged a finger, "as first impressions go I think it's best I threatened you with a stick instead of a real weapon. I don't need a dead fox on my hands." 

The fox sat on its haunches and watched as he started to put away his meager camp. "That is to say I have killed foxes before, or well Geralt has, not a big fan of fox meat am I, but I most certainly wouldn't just kill an innocent fox who is...trying to...are you trying to spell something?"

The foxes paw was trying to make squiggly lines in the dirt near the campfire and it looked up excitedly when Jaskier noticed. He cautiously approached the fox and squatted down beside it.

"I'm sorry dear heart but you're writing is awful," he squinted as if it would somehow help form letters out of the mess. The fox let out a soft woof and he found himself petting its soft head in what he hopes was reassurance.

"You must be someone's pet then?" the fox shook its head. "Under a curse then?"

This time he received a wag of the tail. 

"Ah, right then." Jaskier was suddenly feeling awkward. Talking to a cursed animal wasn't something he was familiar with. _At all_. He figured the right thing to do was take this fox person to a mage so they could get this all sorted out, that at least gave him something to do besides wallow in misery.

The fox nudged at his pants leg with which reminded him that he was in front of some unknown man or woman in only his pants. Jaskier wasn't shy about his form but it was a bit off-putting when he had no clue who the fox was and he hadn't been expecting any company.

"Yes, right, let me just finish getting dressed and then I can help you find a mage that can undo the spell so you're back to your usual - what is your natural self?" Jaskier asked looking down at the fox as if he could see what the fox would look like as a human.

Nothing but dark brown eyes and a muted red coat stared back at him. 

"Well what are you closer to, dashing male stranger or dashing female stranger?"

The fox gave a huff and barked twice.

"Female then, think you could try to spell again? So I can call you by your name."

The fox stared at the ground determindley then stretched her paw out. She tried a few times before patting the ground repeatedly to show off her work. Jaskier tilted his head and was relieved to see the scribbles were actual letters this time.

"Triss then. A beautiful name for who I'm sure is a beautiful woman." He gave his most charming smile and received a huff in return. He then went to put on the matching navy blue doublet with gold trim and the rest of his outfit. With his bedroll under one arm and his pack and lute strapped behind his back he was ready to go. With a crooked finger towards Triss to beckon her to follow him, the two were off back into the village.

Jaskier wasn't used to silence. He talked more to himself when he was on the road without Geralt more than he talked with the Witcher, the silence too eerie and too loud for him. Jaskier wasn't sure how Triss would take to his endless chatter but it was easy to fall into a pattern not unlike his ex-travel companion. Triss couldn't say any words but her barks and other sounds showed she was listening and voicing her opinion on what he said.

When they reached the inn he paused and glanced down at her. "I'm not sure they'll allow you in." 

Triss cocked her head and then stood on her hind-legs and rested her front paws on his knees. 

"You want up?" He asked confused.

Triss yipped once.

"I don't see how that will help...though I suppose it will look like you're tamed if you're in my arms..." he trailed off and bent down to scoop Triss gently in his arms. She curled up close and they entered the inn.

There were some odd looks and one one squealed with how cute they were together but nothing more. Jaskier made it to the innkeeper with no troubles and was given his things without hassle. He started to turn around when he came face to face with two very familiar Zerrikanian twins. Their glares truly were a sight to behold and most men would have been quivering before them. Jaskier had been on the end of worser glares.

"Ah, Tea and Vea good to see you are both here. Love to chat about the whole staying alive thing but I must dash." He made to move around them but they grabbed him on either arm and dragged him towards the back of the inn, ignoring his protests and Triss echoing growl.

Jaskier was surprised that Triss had warmed up to him enough to want to defend him but then again she probably saw him as the only person who was willing to take the time to help her out of the curse. 

He was dropped unceremoniously onto a long bench and he looked up to see Borch sitting across the table from him. 

"Is this treatment because I didn't get a chance to say I'm glad you're not dead," he huffed, eyeing Tea and Vea as they took their places beside Borch.

"Might have been the goose comment." Borch said good-naturedly.

Jaskier felt his neck and cheeks redden and he set Triss on the table so he could cough to cover his embarrassment.

"Yes, well...."

Triss was watching wearily and Jaskier briefly wondered if there was a time limit for how long Triss would still stay Triss. Geralt had warned him a long time ago that those cursed as animals would slowly become the animal and lose themselves entirely if they weren't turned back within a certain amount of time. Jaskier and Triss didn't have time for this right now. 

"As fun as this has been we-I have places to be," he began to get up and Tea and Vea started to move towards him. With a wave of Borch's hand they were back to position as if they'd never moved. The only evidence was Jaskier's unease and the fur that stood up on Triss' back.

"I wanted to leave you with a gift before you left. Something for all that you've done on this journey. I truly did enjoy your stories and songs Julien."

Jaskier bristled a little at the use of his first name. He had no idea how Borch knew but given how he'd unraveled Geralt and Yennefer on the mountain there was no use questioning it. Probably a dragon thing.

"I also wanted to give you some words of advice."

Jaskier grimaced and waited. He doubted Borch would go easy on him; something similar to Geralt and Yennefer was going to happen and he did not want to breakdown in front of everyone. That shit had just happened yesterday, he didn't need wounds reopened but he knew the twins would hold him down until the old dragon was done if he tried to leave now.

"When it comes to Witchers we both know that the saying that they don't have emotions isn't at all truthful. They might some of the most emotional beings on this continent when they break through the barrier that is their training, Geralt especially. I just hope you know that your doubts should be treated the same way."

With that Borch slid a large pouch across the table and then abruptly left, only giving the bard a squeeze on the shoulder as a way of goodbye. 

Well...what the fuck was he supposed to do with that? Was Borch confirming his doubts about the Witcher actually caring for him, or was he saying that the Witcher did actually care for him? He was known for his love of metaphors in his ballads but even he would have liked the dragon to have just outright said whatever the hell he was trying to say. He thumped his head onto the table, earning a concerned woof from Triss.

"It's fine," he mumbled into the table, "destiny just likes to fuck me up the ass."

That earned him a swift cuff to the back of the head from Triss.

When he was done having his little pity party he finally checked the pouch that Borch and thrown at him and oh boy that was a lot of coin. Enough for him to get a horse of his own so he wouldn't have to walk everywhere this time. In fact he could probably buy three horses and have enough left over to buy some new doublets and strings for his lute. He was a simple man and for life on the road all he needed were fashionable clothes and the equipment to treat his lute. Geralt had Roach and Jaskier had his lute.

And there was Geralt crawling into his thoughts again. He really couldn't stop himself from comparing things to Geralt or thinking about what the white haired man would have said or thought if he'd been with Jasker. He scowled and went to the innkeeper to inquire about any horses for sale. He was told that the next day a man was supposed to stop by in the market center around noon so Jaskier was forced to stay another night and give some coin over for a room. He also inquired about a mage but all the innkeeper could offer was an old healer. He suggested a woman two villages over and Jaskier thanked him with some extra coin. The bard had more than enough to spare after all.

He returned to his belongings and Triss and told her of their extended stay. She seemed as alright with the turn of events as any woman turned into a fox could be and easily jumped into his arms so they could head upstairs.

Jaskier was working on just old habits as soon as he crossed the threshold. Lock door, check. Bags and Lute all accounted for on the floor? check. Big comfy bed on which to sprawl on, also check. He set Triss down on the bed and then began stripping himself of his clothes and shoes, eager to slide under the surprisingly good quality sheets. He looked up from the button of his pants to see Triss staring at him.

"Sorry I'm not used to um, not covering myself up I suppose?" It had never been trouble with whores or the noblemen and women he slept with. Geralt hadn't - nope he wasn't doing that now, no more Witchery thoughts tonight. 

It was still unnerving having a fox watch him. 

Triss yipped once and curled up on the pillow next to his head when he eventually slipped under the covers. The crackling fire that had been lit while he'd been paying for his room brought a nice warmth to the room. He knew he was going to bed quite early but he was too exhausted to care. Triss didn't seem to mind either, her eyes closed the minute she'd found a good position to sleep in.

"Goodnight Triss." He whispered into the darkness of the room, his eyes growing heavy with sleep as the sun started to set outside the rooms window. 

Before he went to sleep for good he could have sworn he felt Triss lick his nose.


	2. On Our Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the support so far and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

When Jaskier awoke it was still dark out and he could feel the weariness in his bones of not getting enough sleep in. He grumbled and tried to bury himself back into the soft pillows and blindly reached out for Triss. When his searching came up with nothing he blearily opened his eyes and frowned. Where could Triss have gone? He sat up and let the blanket pool around his waist as he surveyed the room. 

He was startled to see that the room looked like it had been ransacked. Had someone snuck in to steal from him and had taken Triss as part of their bounty? Jaskier was up in a flurry, managing to keep his legs wrapped up in the blanket as he stumbled around the room gathering his doublets and breeches from their scattered position on the floor. By the time he was done gathering everything up and he was surprised to find that nothing was missing except for one of his chemises and a pair of breeches.

And of course, Triss.

"Don't panic Jaskier, don't panic." He muttered to himself, starting to pace around the room. Maybe Triss had gotten fed up with him and had jumped out the window? He had done it himself plenty of times and the window didn't seem that sturdy. A determined fox could push it open seeing as even its lock was busted.

"And we are on the second floor you dolt." He resisted the urge to smack his own forehead and went back to entertaining the idea that someone had stolen Triss. That someone must have known Triss was human, why else would someone want to steal a fox and -

There was a sound of the door unlocking and Jaskier scrambled for his dagger, waiting anxiously as the door opened to reveal a woman in _his_ missing chemise and breeches, trying to balance a tray with food and drink in one arm and the key to the room in the other.

"Oh good you're up, could you take this for me?" the strange woman held the tray out towards Jaskier while he just stared at it in confusion. 

To be honest he was feeling quite silly now with his dagger high up in the air ready for an attack, an attack on a woman who was bringing food into the room as if this was her room as well.

The woman's chocolate brown eyes were reflecting his exact emotions, as if she had the right to be confused as to why he was standing like a fool with a dagger and not taking the tray from her arms. He slowly started to lower his arm and took the tray from her outstretched arm, wearily walking over to the table in the corner of the room. Jaskier self-preservation skills were really doing a number on him today.

His eyes were drawn to her small frame as she turned her back on him to lock the door. The fire in the hearth didn't add too much room to the light but when she turned around he was able to discern that she had quite a pretty and round face with caramel brown eyes and high arched eyebrows. Her auburn hair was tucked behind her ears and didn't go further than her shoulder. She wasn't very tall and while his breeches seemed to fit, his chemise definitely didn't. 

"Normally I'm not opposed to strange women in my room but I think this is a bit of a stretch even for me." Jaskier said tightly, his hand once again reaching for his dagger. "I'd also like to know why you're in my clothes and have my key and - wait if you have those things then you know where Triss is!" He moved with a speed uncommon of his usual leisure and brought the dagger to her neck.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise and then she huffed. "Jaskier I'm right here. Triss Merigold at your service."

He kept the dagger where it was as he looked into her eyes to see if she was lying. He was good with people who wore masks. Cracking through Geralt had been a challenge of course but it had been worth it in the end and had only improved his skills. It had gotten him out of far more scrapes than he had ever revealed to the Witcher. The woman claiming to be Triss was only looking at him with mirth and pure honesty. 

The bard took a step back and let the dagger drop onto the table.

"Want to explain how you're standing before me as a woman instead of as a Fox? I'm fairly certain I didn't break the spell...or at least fairly certain because we didn't kiss which knocks out true loves kiss, we haven't found who cursed you yet so that's out as well-"

Jaskier was cut off by Triss placing a gentle hand on his shoulder which she used to guide him to the bed where he sat down with enough force to bounce on the soft mattress as it adjusted to his weight. 

"No, unfortunately you didn't break the curse. I wasn't able to tell you beforehand but the curse I'm under makes me take a fox form for the day and then I'm human again from midnight til the dawn." 

"Well I suppose you at least are able to be yourself for a while. Mind telling me why you're all..." he trailed off and waved towards her attire with his hand.

"Ah yes, sorry about that. I was quite hungry and I couldn't go downstairs naked so I rummaged around til I found something I could wear. I see you cleaned everything up, I was going to do that when I came back." She sheepishly smiled at him and went to bring the tray over to the bed. 

There were two plates on the tray, one with boiled apples covered in golden raisins, the other stacked with semi-stale looking crackers;cheese, grapes, and cubed pieces of meat. Two large mugs smelling of bitter tea filled the rest of the space.

"This is all they could offer at this hour." She said gave Jaskier one of the spoons as she began to heartly dig into one of the boiled apples. 

"Where did you get the money for this?" Jaskier asked around a mouthful of his own still hot fruit. He had counted the coins in his pouch earlier when he'd been looking for anything missing and he had came up with the same sum as he'd had when he'd first came into the room.

"Ah yes well, I'm a mage. I just made some coins into existence to use." She quietly said, the mirth gone from her features as she waited for him to acknowledge she was a witch.

All he did was give a sharp laugh. "A cursed mage, Isn't that a bit of an oxymoron?"

Triss bit her lip as she smiled and relaxed again, digging into her apple again. Jaskier knew that her fears were warranted, the world had come a long way and now sorceresses were serving in courts and weighing in on political matters, while regular townsfolk went to mages for help with ailments or potions, but most still held the ideology that anything or anyone of magical origin was associated with hell and dark magic. Back when he was first starting out as a bard, fresh out of Oxenfurt, he had witnessed a young girls parents refusing help for their sick daughter from a healer witch. The young girl, probably eight or nine, had died the next day.

He did have to wonder why she wasn't afraid of his dagger but was worried he'd spit prejudiced views at her.

"Wait, if you're a mage, can't you just undo the curse with your own magic?"

"The one who did this muted my magic. Meaning I can do small things like heal some scrapes or bruises or make coin appear but I can't take something as big as this curse on by myself. I need someone who is equal or above level with the _woman_ who cursed me." Triss spat the word 'woman' out like it was a disease and Jaskier could imagine what kind of power the witch before him had before losing it.

"I was quite lucky I came across you. I'd been wandering for a few days and I took a risk approaching you but I recognized you from Geralt's descriptions and I knew you would help me."

She had finished her apple by now and had moved onto the crackers as if she hadn't just casually said she knew Geralt. Jaskier just watched her wide-eyed. She knew Geralt? Geralt had never mentioned a witch before. On another note Geralt talked enough about the bard that this mage had known it was him?

"Do I have something on my face?" Triss asked when he hadn't said anything.

"What is it with that bloody Witcher and mages - I mean no offense to you Triss, I'll make an exception for you - but _really?_ this man attracts mages like flies to honey." Jaskier grumbled. That wasn't really true seeing as there was only Yennefer and now Triss, but he wouldn't put it past destiny to whip up a few more witches to come stumbling into his path.

Triss raised an eyebrow as he began abruptly stood up and began pacing.

"Geralt's never even mentioned you, you know? And now you're saying that he's talked about me with you? Probably comparing my singing to a pie without filling again! I swear that oaf has about much tact as a doorknob."

"I take it you and Geralt are on the outs right now." Triss said tentatively.

"Ha, what gave you _that_ idea." His voice betraying his bitterness. "Being on the outs implies that we'll eventually be on the _in."_ Jaskier finished awkwardly.

Triss adjusted herself on the bed and beckoned for him to come back. He did so with a slight pout and once he sat down she moved the tray out of the way and took his hands in hers.

"I've only know him a few years but he has become a dear friend of mine. His character is, _lacking,_ when it comes to expressing his emotions but you have been with him for far longer than I have so that must count for something." Triss was looking at him with such hopeful eyes that Jaskier felt like breaking down right in front of her. "Whatever he's done you must know wasn't what he truly means, I mean the way he talked about you the last few times I saw him made it seem like he was half in l-"

"I'm positive it's not the case this time," Jaskier was hardly listening to her as the thoughts whirled around in his head.Triss squeezed his hand in what was probably reassurance.

"Will you tell me what happened?" She asked.

Jaskier gave her his own quick squeeze before withdrawing his hands from hers. "Maybe later, I think it's time I go back to sleep so I can wake up and get everything ready for when we get to the market. I need to buy us a horse and provisions. The innkeeper told me about a mage a few towns over we can go talk to. Hopefully she can help with the curse."

Triss nodded and stood up to move the tray back to the table.

She came back and slid into the bed beside him, turning so she was facing him. She looked ready to say something but decided against him and just wished him a goodnight.

††††

"I should have asked you yesterday what garments you preferred hm?" Jaskier asked Triss who was staring up at him from beside his feet. The black dress in his hands was similar to something of Yennefer's and had complicated buttons and lace coreseting. 

"What about this?" He squatted down and let Triss sniff at the fabric. It was of good quality at least but he couldn't help but admit that sexy black dresses no longer had their appeal now that he knew Yennefer preferred them. There had been a point where he wondered whether they could have been friends in another life, one without a white wolf to fight over. But he was stuck in this world where Yennefer would rather cut his balls off and use them in a potion then even say hello to him.

Triss turned her nose away from the fabric, showing her disinterest and Jaskier tried to hide his relief as he returned the dress to the table it was on. His eyes saw something yellow under a bile of brown looking dresses and he eagerly pulled it out of the pile to show Triss. "Look, it's the perfect shade of yellow. Marigold yellow to be specific." He gave a wink and Triss barked. She eagerly pawed at the dress and gave another bark.

"Alright alright, I can see you like it." Jaskier chuckled, taking a moment to admire the dress. It was made of a thicker material than the black dress which worked better with the current weather they were having and had beautiful white embroidery on the bodice. The dress would really compliment the mage and the bard bought it straight away and asked for it to be carefully wrapped up so it wouldn't get wrinkles or dirtied when they hit the road. 

Jaskier had woken up that morning to the sun's rays blinding him and Triss back in fox form. He had packed up everything and Triss and he ate the leftover food from the tray and the left-over cold tea for their breakfast. He had then headed downstairs to give the innkeeper the key and to inquire once about how the village of the mage was. Jaskier was certain that as long as they didn't linger at the market too long they would easily reach the other village by nightfall. The duo had set out on the short journey to the center of the village where the market was in full bloom. Jaskier had spotted the dresses right away and had headed over eagerly.

Now, with the package added to his possessions he could invest some time in getting some food for the road and maybe a new outfit for himself before he bought a horse. Jaskier was back in the doublet and matching breeches he was in when he'd last been on the mountain and he was very eager to get rid of them and their bad memories. He had just began to walk when a flash of white caught his eye and his heart stopped. He'd been so caught up with helping Triss he hadn't thought about Geralt eventually coming down the mountain and there being a possible meeting so soon after their last exchange. Jaskier could feel his heart jack-rabbiting and let out a startled laugh when the white haired individual turned out to just be a rather tall old woman. Triss barked at questiongly and he made an excuse.

It was silly to think the Witcher, if he had even taken the same path down the mountain as Jaskier had, would still be here. Geralt was more than capable of avoiding a human who didn't have the same smelling abilities. It wasn't as if the Witcher would search him out either to apologize so there was no real fear of confrontation in a crowded market.

Finally stocked up with dried fruits and jerky and a new mauve colored doublet and high-waisted breeches set he was ready to go and buy a horse. 

The man selling the horses showed great care for them and walked Jaskier through several. Most were male and shied away from Jaskier or outright ignored him. The man directed him towards some less temperamental mares and Jaskier found himself missing Roach. It had taken a while for her to warm up to him but they had bonded over the last decade and he wanted a horse like her. One that was loyal and cared for her rider. He tried to express this to the horse seller as well as tried to explain how he wanted a horse that knew what he was saying and that had earned him an odd look. Maybe it was only a Witcher horse thing where Roach was the only one who could carry on a conversation in such a way it was almost like she was human. 

Something seemed to click with the man at least and he brought them over to a pitch black mare who stood about the same height as Roach did. The horse was compact with powerful shoulders. She had a long and feathery like tail and hair that flared out over her hooves. The horse turned to him and looked at him with _knowing_ eyes.

"I'll take her."

The man looked slightly surprised by Jaskier's affirmative tone but took the coin without hesitation. The bard took his time getting to know the gorgeous horse as he waited for the horse seller to gather up all the reins, saddle, bridle, brush, and everything else he would need for the equestrian. She nuzzled into his hand almost immediately and nickered softly as he scratched her nape.

"What do you think?" He asked Triss. Triss walked over to the horse cautiously and Jaskier watched in wonder as the horse dipped her head down enough to nuzzle at Triss' head, almost knocking the fox over. 

"I think she likes you." Jaskier teased, earning a small nip on his ankle from Triss.

This was the happiest he had felt in what felt like forever. He scratched at the horses nape again and felt giddy with excitement at the prospect of adventuring, being out on the open road again with a purpose. He looked over at the mare and smiled when a name popped into his head.

"What do you say Pegasus? Up for an adventure?"


	3. Lilac and Gooseberries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but I have a dentist appointment later today and I'm a fool who writes these at 2am in the morning so I need to sleep.

As Jaskier had predicted, the trio had reached the village of Woodhaven by nightfall. Jaskier had alternated throughout the day with riding Pegasus and walking her. She wasn't used to carrying so many things plus human weight for so long and he didn't want to overwork her. Triss had kept up a steady pace beside him and they had only stopped once so he could relieve himself.

Along their journey Jaskier had wondered what had happened to Triss. He really should have asked her the night before about why she had been cursed in the first place but he had been distracted and here he was dabbling in something that could easily backfire on him. He didn't know Triss, what if she was cursed for a good reason? Maybe it was placed on her so she would stop eating little children or something as equally nefarious. But no, the curse would have been much worse and Geralt never befriended those with ill intentions in their heart other than Yennefer.

Geralt made a lot of exceptions for Yennefer.

He vowed he would ask Triss about it once she was back in human form.

They had walked through the village until they came across a suitable looking inn with stabled laden with fresh hay and several other horses. A stable boy had been about to turn in for the night but had eagerly went to settle Pegasus in once the bard had added extra coin. With Pegasus being taken care for the moment, Jaskier was free to go to the inn to get a room. He asked Triss if she would prefer to go in or wait with Pegasus and the fox had barked once before launching herself into his arms. Clearly, she would be joining him in the inn.

Given how rural and old the village was, Jaskier was surprised at how clean and brightly lit the inn was. It was still quite small with a tiny area for dining and a bar nestled under the stairs which would lead to the customers rooms. There was no one else in the room except for a middle age woman who was sweeping around the check-in counter.

He strode over to her and offered a winning smile. "Good evening madam, I was wondering if I could inquire a room for the night?" 

The woman looked up from her sweeping and eyed him critically, her eyes narrowing even more when she noticed the small fox cradled in his arms. 

"She's well trained." He hurried to say and the woman raised an eyebrow.

"A bard with a fox, that's not something you see every day." She then huffed to herself and walked past him to the checkout counter and grabbed a key from under the desk and told him the price.

He stuttered at the price but wasn't really in the mood to argue with the battle-axe of an innkeeper - _Melitele_ she could give Geralt a run for his money with that glare - and he did have all that coin leftover in the pouch Borch had given him so there was no real need to conserve money.

Jaskier handed the coins over and the innkeeper made to dismiss him and go back to sweeping but he stopped her stepping in front of her path which then had him recoiling back just as quickly when she all but snarled at him.

"My apologies, but I had a quick question," he squeaked.

She made a gesture for him to go on while he waited for permission to speak.

"Right, well. I heard there was a mage in these parts and I was wondering if you could point me towards her?"

The innkeepers brows furrowed even more and Jaskier briefly wished he could have the sort of dangerous aura that this woman had. 

"What would you be needing a sorceress like her for?" she looked at him suspiciously and her eyes flickered down to Triss who was becoming agitated in his arms. 

"Oh just some um, potions of the...healing sort. Yes, I have a very sick uncle who's illness can't be cured without a certain spell and- wait did you say sorceress?"

The last innkeeper hadn't said anything about a sorceress. A sorceress was extremely powerful and had trained in Aretzua for a life of working alongside kings and noblemen. What would a sorceress be doing out here?

Just then Triss sprung from his arms and made a beeline for the door which was now opening to reveal a figure wrapped in cream and grey furs. Triss was chittering happily at the ankles of the new arriver and Jaskier felt a shiver run down his spine as his cornflower blue eyes met startlingly purple ones. 

Of course the first sorceress or witch of any kind they came across just had to be fucking Yennefer of Vengerberg.

††††

Jaskier had bolted out the door, startling everyone within the inn as he grabbed Triss and ran outside to the stable. He set her down on some hay next to Pegasus' stall and ignored her angry chittering. He made sure the stable boy was nowhere within sight before addressing her.

"What in the _world_ was that Triss? Why on this greenland would you run towards that _foul, unreasonable, vixen of a harpy woman-"_

"So you think I'm a vixen hm?"

Jaskier was shook out of his rambling by the familiar voice and he turned to see the one and only Yennefer of Vengerberg leaning against opening to the stable. The scent of lilacs and gooseberries was thick in the air and at that moment he swore of gooseberry pies for the rest of his life. He wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms. Without Geralt by his side, he wouldn't need to worry about using his dagger or throwing knives if the witch tried anything.

"Relax bard. I'm not going to do anything." Yennefer scoffed as she came closer, her long fur cloak dragging across the ground but not picking up a spec of dirt or horse hair. 

He bristled as she stepped up to him with a smirk. They were about the same height and he was unsettled with how their eyes were level with each other.

"Triss and I are friends, we went to Aretuza together."

"She must have high tolerance to bear your company." He muttered dryly, not backing down when the sorceress' eyes flashed with warning.

"Triss is here with you, isn't she?." She sniffed haughtily. Jaskier's fists clenched and he was just _aching_ to sock her one when Triss barked to gain their attention. She looked at them with a clear air of annoyance and Jaskier stepped back with a sigh. He moved away from the two and towards Pegasus so he could gather all their things. They had maybe four more hours til nightfall, which meant four more hours of resisting the urge to scream at Yennefer and tear his hair out of his head.

"How did you know it was Triss?" He grumbled more than asked as the trio made their way back towards the inn.

"I can smell her magic," was all Yennefer said and as Jaskier looked at her he noticed a slight flush to her cheeks which made him quirk an eyebrow. She practically glided past him and up the stairs, forcing him and Triss to hurry after her. Yennefer only allowed Jaskier to take the lead so he could unlock his room before going into the room before him, hitting her shoulder against his.

"Well, we could do better than this." Yennefer said more so to herself as they took in the sad looking strawbed, metal tub, and unlit hearth that looked ready to cave in on itself. It was a complete change from the well taken care of downstairs.

Jaskier was pleasantly surprised when in a blink of the eye the room changed. There was now a large curtain which separated the room in two. On the side by the hearth was a luxurious looking tub and purple blanketed bed that looked large enough to fit five grown men. On the other side was a smaller bed that still managed to look incredibly comfortable and a copy of the other tub. Jaskier knew which side was his and even though he mourned the loss of the hearth - which now crackled with warm flames - he wouldn't complain when the witch he despised had been kind enough to give him a decent bed.

"Remind me to write a ballad about you giving me this bed," Jaskier all but groaned as he sank into the feathery mattress.

He heard a scoff and the sound click of heels and tiny claws as both magic users bustled around on Yennefer's side of the room. After resting for a few minutes more he took his lute off his back and rested it on the nightstand beside the head of the bed, and then began rummaging through his things so he could get ready for the night.

He had just tossed his doublet onto the bed when Yennefer walked around the curtain to his side.

Jaskier's hands went to cover his bare chest and he looked at her scandalized. There was a twitch of her lip that could have been a smile but it was gone within seconds. "Is there any reason you're acting like an innocent farm girl who's being peaked on?"

"Because I am!" 

He fumbled to get his doublet and started to protest, "I'm not saying Im a farm girl It's just you- you're not supposed to just walk in-" he flapped a hand at her as he tried to convey his point.

"Eloquent as always _bard._ " She smirked

Jaskier groaned and banged his head lightly against the window once she had walked away. Any other woman he would have been willing to do a little show for, but one look from those violet eyes and he felt like a small child again. She always managed to bring him back to the time when wasn't able to defend himself, when he was living day by day at the mercy of his father. He shook those thoughts away and continued to undress, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't be interrupted again. Once he was in one of his larger long-sleeved chemises and comfy sleep pants he made his way over to the other side of the room, only stopping to get the package that contained Triss' dress.

Yennefer had added a small table with cushioned chairs next to the fire and Jaskier sank into the one across from her with a sigh. She was of course dressed in a black dress that was cut to show off her curves and highlight her darker skin. She watched him with some interest as he sat the package on the table and Triss hopped onto his lap and onto the table to settled herself besides the package.

"Why don't you tell me everything about what you know," Yennefer demanded.

And so he did just that. She only interrupted him to ask what the reason for the curse was which caused him to sputter excuses because he was planning on asking her once she was in human form thank you very much. Yennefer rolled her eyes and moved to grab at the package. The sudden movement had Jaskier reaching for the dagger which he had moved to hiding in the boots he hadn't taken off yet.

Yennefer's eyes widened in surprise and her hand froze over the package.

"I just wanted to see what it was," she said sounding surprisingly soft. 

Jaskier moved his hand away from his boots and swallowed, feeling his face heated with embarrassment. He hadn't meant to do that, he really hadn't. It was more an unconscious move, a reflex, to look for a weapon to protect himself.

Something must have shown on his face because suddenly the sorceress was standing up slowly and walking over to him, telegraphing her every move. He sat still as she reached a hand to his chin and tilted it upwards so he was forced to look at her face.

"I think this has gone on long enough." 

His brow furrowed at her words and she continued. "You're annoying, loud, you dress so colorfully my eyes hurt -"

"Hey now!" He interjected and tried to get his chin out of her grasp but it was futile.

"-but, I know that you're loyal to the fault, and have more empathy inside you than most people I know. You can on occasion, even make me laugh."

Jaskier sat in shocked silence as Yennefer finally let his chin go.

"The only reason we hate each other, why we are always at each other's throats, is no longer here with us. He discarded both of us and now we're both here trying to help Triss and to get that stupid man out of our heads."

Jaskier found himself nodding to her words. 

Yennefer was extending an olive branch, if he accepted it then things would change. Maybe not for the better but it would certainly help not having this animosity in his heart. Her words rang true. Had it not been for his jealousy he would have probably loved Yennefer like he did Essi. She did have similar humor to him and she wasn't so bad when she wasn't trying to make him feel down or when she was manipulating the Witcher and wasn't that a thought? Thinking Yennefer wasn't so bad.

Jaskier waited til she had went back to her seat before accepting her olive branch and extending one of his own.

"Inside the package is a dress for Triss since the curse wasn't considerate enough to let her keep her clothes when she changes. It's a beautiful yellow color I think you'd like, though I don't think I've ever seen you in anything but dark purples and blacks...are you by any chance allergic to bright colors, if so I could -"


	4. Letting Go

Yennefer and he spent most of the rest of the night having stilted conversations.

They were still on rocky footing, Jaskier still too hurt to let go right away with his hatred of Yennefer. He knew they would eventually find their rhythm and they'd be ok but for now he was filling the silence in their conversation with his lute. There was a song running through his mind that felt awkward to compose in front of Yennefer, especially because it was a ballad about Geralt and Yennefer and also himself.

He was frankly relieved when Triss grabbed the package off the table and leaped to the ground with it in her mouth as she went behind the curtain. A few minutes passed and Triss emerged from behind the curtain in the marigold dress. She gave a little twirl and Jaskier clapped and stood up from his seat to bow before her.

"My lady Merigold you are truly stunning. I could write many a ballad about you and this dress-"

"Oh shut up will you." Yennefer cut in and Jaskier straightened and looked over at the sorceress and changed tactic. If the two of them were going having a truce then he was going to take full advantage of it. He gave Yennefer an even deeper bow than he had given Triss and dared to even take her hand.

"I'm so sorry m'lady, it was truly rude of me to deny you my compliments as well. Your raven hair is just ravishing in this light and-"

Jaskier cut himself off when Yennefer laughed. He looked up at her in surprise to see she had thrown her head back with the force of the laugh.

"Don't give me any ideas bard. Keep going and I'll hex you to only speak compliments about me." She gave him a small smile and tugged her hand out of his. Jaskier let it slip from his grip and then motioned for Triss to take his seat.

"Now. Let's get to business. We don't know why you were cursed." Yennefer's was quick to switch from a joking mood to a more serious one as she waited for Triss to talk.

"Well," Triss cleared her throat and played at the hem of her sleeve as if embarrassed, "truth be told it was partially my fault. I was provoking the woman but she said such nasty things about Geralt and Yennefer you should have been there. She stunk of dark magic."

"So this has to do with Geralt then?" Yennefer asked, raising one finley threaded eyebrow.

"Of bloody course it does." Jaskier all but moaned with annoyance. "The big oaf blames me for all his hardships and then turns out to be the reason behind this."

Yennefer's mouth twisted into a grimace and Triss watched with clear confusion on her face.

"I didn't want to ask beforehand but given by how you're acting Geralt's pissed you off too Yen?"

"Oh he's done much more than that." Yennefer all but snarled. She ran a hand through her hair and clasped her hands together on the table. "Let's move on from that though. What was the witches reasoning for her hatred of Geralt?"

"Well from what I gathered from all her very specific insults, he killed her lover."

Jaskier's brows furrowed. "Well there must be a good reason for that. Geralt doesn't just kill people."

"Exactly what I was trying to tell that woman, but with all that dark magic swirling around her I don't think she was able to be reasoned with. I'm surprised she didn't give me a worse curse, unless it's going to present itself later on."

Yennefer looked Triss over and then closed her eyes and mumbled a few words. Her eyes were moving frantically behind her closed lids and when she opened them again she was breathing heavily. 

"I won't lie Triss, it's not good."

Triss sighed and accepted Jaskier's outstretched hand of comfort. 

"Of course it's not," she said miserably.

"The curse has managed to have spread all over you. It seems like the longer you are cursed the shorter amount of time you'll have as human until you will become a fox indefinitely."

"Well you can fix it right? Triss said she needed a witch equal to or more powerful than the witch to break it. You're the most powerful sorceress I know Yennefer!"

"It doesn't work like that. There's an extra layer to the curse, it will only be broken if I break it near its true intended target. If I try to break it now I'm sure nothing pleasant will happen, Triss will either get stuck in fox form forever or something worse. We need to get her to Geralt and then I can break it."

Jaskier found himself pacing around as he absorbed the information.

"So we have to actively look for Geralt now? Shouldn't be hard since you two are still tied together and destiny hates me. You're the only one Geralt doesn't seem to hate or have angered right now Triss." He put on a faux smile when he addressed Triss and ignored her sympathetic look.

"You still haven't told me what he has done." Triss said looking at them both.

Yennefer just shrugged and looked at the fire instead of Triss' earnest expression. This meant that the auburn haired mage had now turned her attention on Jaskier who felt trapped under her gaze.

“I suppose you won’t leave it alone unless one of us speaks hm?”

Triss nodded, looking a little guilty. “I’m a firm believer in not keeping your emotions inside. It feels good to release that pent up energy and negative emotion.” 

Jaskier sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling as if it had the answers to his misery. He thought he was the most stubborn of the group but clearly he had met his match.

“When I was little the only person who could stand having me around was a little girl who lived in the poorer part of Lettenhove. Her name was Essi Daven and for the longest time she was my only friend. I'm sure you've noticed that I make friends everywhere I go but none of them ever want to actually know me for more than one night or care to stick around after a few drinks and songs.” 

Jaskier wasn't sure why he was starting it off this way. Maybe he wanted them to understand just how badly Geralt hurt him. How Jaskier wasn't just some side character that was part comic relief and part scapegoat.

“So imagine my surprise when Geralt let me stay with him. I'm stubborn but I'm not stubborn enough to force a Witcher to be my companion. It was nice having someone besides Essi to converse with, or well converse at, in Geralt’s case. For all that I talk, I don't open up as quickly as I let people believe I do. I left Lettenhove when I was 16 because of a very toxic relationship with my father and I've never looked back. I got into Oxenfurt, studied and trained and did what I loved and finally was able to start traveling as a bard. Geralt had me putting my walls down almost right away. I wanted to tell him everything about myself, I had found someone who didn't make me feel like I had to hide myself, someone I could even tell my real name too, because under all his harsh words I could see their real meaning. We all know his actions show how he truly feels.”

He at this point had stopped pacing and decided to sit cross-legged on Yennefer’s bed. The silk sheets felt good in his hand as he made useless patterns in the material. 

“And then Geralt, the man who is very careful with his words because he's not very good with them, uses them to tell me exactly where I can shove off too.”

Yennefer, surprisingly, was the one who walked over and sat next to him first. Triss followed after, plastering herself against his side in a side hug, her long arms snugly holding him around the waist.

“And I've had doubts, of course I have. You can only get called stupid so many times but I love that man.” He choked out and this time the tears that had been threatening to come out the last two days fell free. 

“He has no right to treat you like that,” Triss hissed, sounding truly pissed for the first time. “I know he's a but of hardass but come on.”

“What did he tell you.” Yennefer asked quietly, her hand found his and rested atop it. She didn't hold it, just let her hand splay across his. 

“Which part?” Jaskier’s laugh sounded cold and forced even to his own ears. “It was after his fight with you.” He couldn't keep the bitterness from his words and he couldn't look at Yennefer.

“I found him by himself and I didn't read the mood so to speak. I hardly got a word in before he asked me, why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it’s you shoveling it?”

Jaskier hiccuped through his tears and relaxed further into Triss’ hold. “I said he was being unfair and then he said.” Another hiccup broke through.

“Then he said, If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.” 

He and Triss were startled when Yennefer stuck her hand out and a burst of magic fizzled in the air and broke one of the chairs on impact. She was shaking with anger and her violet eyes turned to him with a look that made him feel bare.

“He doesn't get to do that. He doesn't get to bind me to him with his djinn wish, he doesn't get to stand there like a trout when he can't understand why I'm angry that he's rejecting his child surprise when I had to give up what I want most now?” 

She grabbed his hand at that point and squeezed it harshly. 

“He also does not get to treat his friends like shit. I hope he feels so regretful and guilty it brings him to his knees,” she growled the last words out making a shiver go down Jaskier’s spine.

“I think we should go to bed now.” Triss said quietly, breaking the tension. 

Jaskier wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. 

“We’ll probably have a long day ahead of us trying to track Geralt down.” Triss continued as Jaskier stood up from the bed. “What he did isn't a quick forgiveness and you both deserve a groveling apology but I really need his help.”

Jaskier and Yennefer exchanged a silent look. There was no question of being able to push aside their anger and hurt so Triss could get to Geralt. 

“Of course.” Yennefer said quietly and Jaskier nodded his agreement

He wished them a soft goodnight and practically fell into his bed. He fell asleep to Yennefer and Triss’ whispered voices on the other side of the curtain.

††††

He woke up to the room back to how it had been the night before. Yennefer was already in her furs and waiting patiently on the edge of his bed.

“Hurry up bard. We need to go to the cottage I've been using so I can grab my things. I need to make a potion that can help speed up the process of finding the Witcher.” 

Jaskier grunted and threw the covers back. That action left him exposed as Triss jumped on to his chest and barked eagerly on his lap. “Right, right I'm up.” 

He changed first into his new mauve doublet with puffed sleeves and a low neckline. He dabbed some lavender oil on the inside of his wrist and his neck. He was so demanding a bath at their nearest convenience. He then shimmied his way into the matching breeches that might have been a tad tighter than he thought it would be. Maybe all that walking had finally caught up and his leg muscles were filling out the pants. Or he was gaining weight as he got older. 

With everything all set they left the inn and went to get Pegasus from her stall. She gave Jaskiers hair a welcoming nibble and eagerly greeted Yennefer. The witch hid her surprise well and hesitantly stroked Pegasus’ flank before they were off.

Jaskier spent most of the walk to the cottage composing and the other half trying to talk to Yennefer.

Him spilling his guts last night had helped with the tension between the two and she ended up explaining to him the more in-depth story she'd been telling Triss last night about why she was so furious with Geralt.

“For what it's worth,” he said as they finally came to the cottage, “I think you'd be a good mother. No one is able to just suddenly know how to take care of a child, it takes time and practice. My mother used to tell me stories about what a little terror I could be and how she didn't know how to handle me in the beginning.” He gave her a bittersweet smile at the memory of his childhood and Yennefer returned it with a thankful smile. 

Yennefer’s cottage had peeling paint and looked unable to fit the three of them inside but much like her tents it had been enchanted on the inside to be bigger.

The space inside smelled like her perfume. It was spotless and well organized, all the furniture tastefully chosen. 

While Jaskier went about tying Pegasus to a nearby tree with a fresh patch of sweet grass for her to chew on, Triss was helping Yennefer brew the potion they would need to find the Witcher.

When he walked in Triss was jumping around and grabbing small viles with her mouth, handing them off to Yennefer who was pouring various liquids and herbs into a large pot on the stove.

Jaskier was asked a few times to grab things Triss couldn't but other than that he watched with interest as Yennefer stirred the concoction with a large wooden spoon.

It was ready sooner than he would have thought. The now purple liquid was poured carefully into a vile and corked. 

“It has to sit for a few hours before it's ready. Triss you will then need to drink it. It'll pull you in the direction of the Witcher. Hopefully destiny will work with us rather than against us this time and he won't be too far.”

“Are we going to wait here then?” Jaskier perked up, thinking he could get a long and nice soak in Yennefer’s tub.

Instead Yennefer shook her head no.

“I’ve no need of this village anymore and I'd rather be on the move.” She looked at them hesitantly and looked uncharacteristically fearful.

“Nilfgaard is making moves, there are whispers that they're nearby and I don't want to be around for that. 

“May I request a bath before we go?” Jaskier asked, eager to move away from Nilfgaard’s troops but not enough to lose the chance at a bath. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes and pointed towards the stairs. “Last door on the right.”

Jaskier gave his thanks and bolted out of the room and up the stairs, his lute bumping against his back. 

The bath was already filled when he got there and sunlight poured into the room from the window, giving the water an ethereal sheen.

He undressed quickly and set his lute down on his clothes before climbing into the welcoming warm water. Jaskier let out a long and pleased sigh as his muscles released their tension with the help of the soothing bath. He laid there for a bit before finding a bar of soap and began washing himself. The soap was unscented and buttery soft as it glided over his skin. The oils for his hair on the other hand smelled strongly of cloves and oranges. It wasn't his usual scent but it was a good smell and he wasn't one to complain. 

Jaskier didn't know how long he had stayed in the tub but a knock at the door startled him from a near sleep.

“We’re going to be leaving now! Staying in the bath all day won't change the fact you smell.” Yennefer called out.

Jaskier flicked his hand at the door in a rude gesture and then squealed when the water became ice cold. He jumped out of the bath cursing as Yennefer walked away from the door with a cackle.

He toweled himself off quickly and rushed to put on his clothes and grab his lute. 

Once he stepped outside the house he felt a whoosh of air and turned around in shock to see the cottage was gone. 

“Now, if you can do magic like that, why can't you get your own horse?” He turned to glare at the witch who was sitting side-saddle on Pegasus’ back, Triss in her arms. 

“Aren't you used to walking alongside a horse instead of riding one?” Yennefer asked with a quirk of her brow.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered, feeling quite betrayed by his horse as she just snorted at him as if to say she wasn't going to fight Yennefer.

“Let's get going then.” Yennefer said and Jaskier grabbed Pegasus’ reins to guide her. Triss gave him a sympathetic whine but didn't join him in walking, instead burrowing herself further into Yennefer’s skirt. 

††††

The path they were now on was thin and jagged. Jaskier had moved to sit behind Yennefer and kept apologizing to Pegasus about his added wife but there was no sense of him twisting his ankle on the treacherous road when the horse was more capable of navigating.

“You said something about Jaskier not being your real name.” Yennefer interrupted one of his stories about Oxenfurt and he went quiet.

“Trust is important to you, I understand that now. Especially after last night I can now see how you avoid certain topics about your past. But I want you to know you can trust Triss and you can trust me.”

They continued on in silence til Jaskier broke it with an uneasy cough.

“My name is Julien. Viscount Julien Alfred Pankratz.”

“That makes sense in a way.” Yennefer said as she turned her head towards him. “Your taste for luxury fits a viscount more than a bard with good taste.”

“Ah, so you admit I have good taste.” Jaskier said teasingly.

Yennefer huffed and returned her attention back to the front of the road. 

They had only tackled another mile before they reached smoother terrain. Jaskier was about to get off his horses back so she could have a rest when she started to neigh uneasily.

He looked around nervously, wishing he had Witcher senses to help him see what was making Pegasus nervous. The sun had disappeared about halfway through their journey, hidden by dark grey clouds, so it was slightly darker on the road making it near impossible to see into the surrounding woods for any threat.

Jaskier could have sworn just then that the only sound was their breathing before there was a loud crack and Jaskier was pushed off his horse, Yennefer toppling off along with him.

He reached for the dagger in his boot and easily bounced back to his feet, the blade ready in his hands.

They were surrounded by several men dressed all in black. Clearly bandits which was just their luck. Yennefer should be able to take care of them though. Jaskier took one step forward and dug his blade into the nearest man. The man howled in anger as the dagger sliced through his arm. Jaskier went to strike again when he was distracted by a _snk_ noise and he turned to see two men clasping handcuffs on Yennefer’s wrists. By the way she was struggling and unable to use her magic the cuffs must have been crafted to keep their wearers magic contained.

Jaskier growled, realizing that it would be a whole lot harder if not impossible to take out all these men without Yennefer’s help. Yennefer seemed to have come to the conclusion at the same time as him and yelled for him to get the bottle.

The bandits hadn't noticed Triss, who was hiding under Pegasus. 

Jaskier dodged one of the men and dived to his knees in front of Yennfer, his hands went immediately to her skirt and he dug around in the fabric til he found the pocket that had the purple potion. Without thinking he tossed it to Triss who caught it in her mouth.

“Go!” They shouted at the same time to Triss who looked like she wanted to stay and help, but there was nothing for her to do. 

Triss ran from under Pegasus and past all the men, her little legs moving her body swiftly into the night.

Jaskier had only a moment to ask the gods to keep Triss safe before something hard hit his head and he fell face first into Yennefer’s lap.


	5. Just A Fairytail

When Jaskier came to, he had his hands tied behind his back and his legs were bound at the ankles. He let himself marginally relax when he felt Yennefer pressed against his side in a similar situation. Being separated would make their escape harder, he didn't want to have to search the area for her while also having to dodge the bad guys. 

He took in the rest of their surroundings. It was almost nightfall so that meant they'd been out for a couple hours. That man had seriously whacked him. Even though Yennefer and he were bound, with the added anti-magic cuffs on Yennefer's wrists, they weren't tied to a tree or pole. They could hobble their way if they had to.

There was a large campfire a good ten or so feet away; large enough he could feel heat on his face. There were two men sitting around it with their backs to their captives. There were several horses tied to the trees surrounding the fire, six of them not including Pegasus who was still wearing Jaskier and Yennefer’s things. That meant four of the men were unaccounted for. 

Yennefer didn't start stirring till a third man arrived from behind a few dense bushes. He’d probably been there the whole time taking a piss. 

“How the fuck did they get the drop on us?” She whispered angrily. Almost too loudly. She was tensed beside him and he nudged her, hoping to calm her. 

“Neither of us exactly have Witcher senses. The element of surprise works unsurprisingly well.” Jaskier softly chuckled at that earning him a harsh shove from Yennefer which he didn't retaliate because he sort of deserved it. 

Jaskier wanted to start running escape scenarios in his head but a snap from behind him alerted him to the other three members coming back to the fire.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?” A man squatted down in front of them, giving them a large whiff of B.O.

Yennefer’s nose wrinkled in disgust but Jaskier kept his face blank. 

“Two songbirds for the price of one,” the man leered, giving them both a look that had Jaskier wanting to take a bath immediately. 

“One’s an actual singing bird,” the man tipped his head towards Jaskier, “and the other is a whole different type of bird that I'd be happy to make sing.”

His hand started to reach for Yennefer’s breasts and she jerked forward trying to bite his fingers. 

He snapped his hand back, causing the other men to laugh at him. Teasing him for being scared of a woman. 

Their chortelling was stopped when a rough voice ordered them to be silent. 

A man, clearly the leader, was the best looking of his crew. Which wasn't really saying anything. His clothes were slightly less torn and he had white instead of yellow teeth but nothing else to him. 

He easily shoved aside the man who had tried to assault Yennefer and assessed the two. “My name is Jean. I take it you two are unaware of why we’ve captured you?”

Jaskier shook his head. Knowing why they were taken could be used to their advantage. 

“Yes, please tell us before I rip your larynx out of your throat.” Yennefer smiled sweetly, her mouth opened in a snarl.

Jean just laughed and tapped her cuffs. “Not with those on you won’t.”

Yennefer tried to lunge again but Jaskier leaned in front of her.

“Why would you tell us?” He asked, earning a sour smile from Jean. Jaskier’s curiosity was getting them somewhere.

“Because I like to let people know what they're getting into. Plus I'm a sucker for reactions. The angrier you get, the harder you cry, the more I get from the job.”

Jean shrugged as if he was telling them why he liked the color blue instead of showing them his sadistic side.

“Now, the witch that hired me told us that capturing you would lead us to a Witcher.” He looked around the camp and shrugged again. “I see no Witcher here but she did say he would come for his violet eyed lover.”

Yennefer scowled and Jaskier looked away, his heart clenching.

“But we were also supposed to catch a fox. We were supposed to make this woman here,” he pointed at Yennefer, “break the curse and then my client would appear and take care of the Witcher and everyone else.”

He sighed and grabbed Jaskier’s chin to make him face him.

“Unfortunately we have a bard instead of a fox.”

“Truly an unfair trade.” Jaskiers mocked.

Jean’s laughter sounded genuine but without warning he slapped Jaskier in the cheek, causing him to go careening into Yennefer, his jaw getting clipped on her sharp shoulder.

“I'm a man of words myself but I won't take lip from you,  _ or you _ .” He turned to face Yennefer as she opened her mouth to say something.

“So now we sit here and wait for this Witcher to appear to save his true love and all that nonsense and get our payment from the witch after she kills you all.”

Jean started to walk away and Jaskier called out.

“We can pay you more!”

Jean shook his head with a laugh. “I have no doubt about it bard, I’ve been through your bags. You have a mighty fine horse as well. And that lute of yours will get us a pretty penny. But it won't save us from a vengeful witch who learns we’ve turned on her.”

“Yennefer here is even more powerful. She can get you whatever you want!” Jaskier tried again.

Yennefer raised an eyebrow when Jean turned to her. “I'm not going to sell my worth to you.” She huffed when the silence showed he was waiting for her to back up Jaskier’s words.

“Ok so she comes with a bit of attitude but if you keep me alive she'll be more compliant!” Jaskier dodged a jab from Yennefer and used that movement to test the hold of the ropes on his wrist and feet. They were tight.  _ Fuck. _

As he straightened himself back up, something sharp pricked him from inside his pants pocket.

_ Those fools!  _ They hadn't checked him for weapons. They had probably figured his dagger was all he had because he was just a bard. They didn't know about the set of throwing knives he had and this time they were in the right pants!

He stored this information for later and tried again with Jean. 

“Come on good sir, Yennefer and I can help you with this witch of yours. You're already in trouble since you don't have a fox and this way you won't have to worry about a Witcher on top of that.”

Jean just smirked. “I won't be punished for my men's incompetence. As for the Witcher, he ain't shit.”

Jean motioned one of his men forward. The man who hobbled forward was one that Jaskier recognized. Their eyes locked and the man growled. In the light from the fire Jaskier could see just how badly he had cut the other man’s arm earlier during the fight. Jaskier felt a smidge of pride for doing a good job and then turned his attention to the large furry thing in the henchman’s arm that was the cause for his weighted down position. 

The thick fur looked coarse, like bear fur, and Jaskier began to recognize it as a sheath. But what sort of sword would be that heavy and need a cover like that? He heard Yennefer gasp beside him in shock and Jean smiled.

“Ah, so you know what this is?”

He took the fur from the man and laid it gently on the floor. He then struggled to pull out a blade that looked more like scythe. The blade was pure white and had a simple leather handle. Jaskier wasn’t sure why it was so special, but even he could feel a raw power coming from it. The way it gleamed from the fire and the moonlight of the moon which had started to appear made it look even more threatening and ethereal.

“The Bone Blade.” Yennefer choked out.

“It’s a glorified sickle.” Jaskier couldn’t help but say, making Yennefer and even Jean look at him in astonishment.

“You must know the stories.” Yennefer’s voice was disbelieving. “They’re told to every child, even my mother told it to me.”

“Well tell me about this grain cutting weapon of destruction.” Jaskier wanted to move his hands to further demonstrate his sarcasm.

“It’s nothing to  _ mock _ .” 

The biting tone from Yennefer was a surprise and he looked over to see her watching the blade with an awed look that she wasn’t even trying to hide.

“The bone blade is a- well was a myth. A fairytale for children and romantics. There is the Bone Blade, and then a ring. Both fashioned from the same bone. The story goes that a young maiden fell in love with a gold dragon. The gold dragon, when human, was a noble man who was charming and good looking and had men and women falling at his feet. The girl was plain and had few friends but the dragon could see her heart and knew that she was good.”

Yennefer licked her lips and continued.

“Many girls in the village were angry with this, for they wanted him for themselves and didn’t think the other girl deserved him or his love. A few brave - or foolish - girls went to a witch who lived deep in the woods and begged her for a love potion first. When she refused they then begged for poison. The witch was irritated with them for she was a greedy woman and some village girls wouldn’t be able to give her enough money for what they were asking. Then they mentioned that the man was a dragon. A gold dragon. The rarest of them all.”

Jaskier was entranced by the story as Yennefer told it, he felt like he was there, the story clicking into place in his head. He could feel the hatred of the girls, the soft gaze of his beloved as they sat by the lake. He shook his head, knowing those thoughts and feelings were not his. 

“The witch agreed to help them, but she didn’t tell them that she was actually going to kill the gold dragon and use him for her spells and potions. There was another motive. Because Gold dragons are the only ones who can shift their form from dragon to human, they have extra special properties about them. Just a chipped off piece of Gold dragon bone could buy you would let you live for the rest of your days in luxury. But she had other plans for the bone. The witch made the potion and instructed the girls to make the dragon drink it. When he did, he was now stuck in absolute agony as he was forced into a state between shifts. His bones were now a mix of human and dragon and the witch took the opportunity to first fashion the Bone Blade from them.”

Jaskier felt queasy, thinking about that man stuck in between shifting. How agonizing and scared the dragon must have been. 

“The Witch tried to use the Bone Blade but failed multiple times. It was too heavy and bulky even though it had been made to be light and easy to use. She tried many different tricks but none worked. Finally, be it fate or magic or  _ something else _ , she knew how to make the ring. The ring, when worn, could control whomever had the blade. So she didn’t need to wield it, she just needed to control whoever was able to. During this time the dragon’s lover had found out what happened and had been trying to find them for days. The girl got a hold of the Bone Blade and went to kill the witch but the minute she picked it up the witch was able to control the girl. She made the girl cut up her dragon lover so the witch could use the rest of his parts. 

Jean made a humming noise in the back of his throat and touched the tip of the Bone Blade with his finger.

They all watched as a trickle of his blood fell down into the grass.

“But it was too late for her. She hadn’t been strong enough to resist the Bone Blade and she had to carve into her own lover. She went mad. The witch was killed further down the line and the bone and blade went missing til now.” Jean finished.

“How do you intend to use this sword then if you’re struggling with it. Obviously it hasn’t chosen you.” Jaskier said quietly.

“Nope,” Jean covered the blade back up and handed it back to his henchman, “but we have someone here who can. There’s nothing true love can’t do right?”

With a wink he walked away, leaving the two of them to think.

Jaskier felt his stomach roll as he came back to one conclusion. Yennefer would be forced to use the blade against Geralt. It was obvious that the two of them were meant for each other, he had tried to get used to the idea but it had never felt real until now. He was going to watch the man he loved die at the hands of a sorceress.

Sending Triss to go look for Geralt would help with her curse, but overall they were leading Geralt like a lamb to slaughter. They would have to escape, and soon. They had to go somewhere where they had the high ground. Where they could break the bottle far away from the bone blade. They would have a plan by then and they would kill the witch after the curse was broken and it summoned her.

No one would be hurting  _ his  _ Witcher.

††††

They were only given some small bites of bread and then were left again once more. The men under Jean’s command were lazy and were too busy talking around the campfire or preparing for bed to pay any attention to Yennefer and Jaskier.

Jaskier started to scoot backwards. It earned him a curious look from Yennefer and he didn’t speak until the pocket of his pants was aligned with her tied hands.

“I’m going to need you to dig into my pocket. I have a knife in there that I can use to break the ropes.”

Yennefer scooted herself closer and after a few failed attempts finally reached inside his pocket and pulled out the dagger by its handle. He took it from her carefully and inched himself back to where he was sitting before and started a sawing motion on the ropes tied around his arms. The knives weren’t meant for this but they were still a sharp handy tool for cutting through the ropes.

“I'm sure we can find some way to get those cuffs off you without having to search these goons for the key.” Jaskier huffed. The strain of the odd angle he was trying to cut his ropes with was evident.

“Doesn’t matter. We need to get as far from here as possible.” Yennefer said.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Jaskier grunted.

“They can’t possibly believe it will work.” Yennefer murmured, watching the men around the campfire for any sign that they would be noticed.

“At this point Yen how can you be? We live in a world where most cures for curses  _ actually  _ are true loves kiss.”

Yennefer scoffed. “Well I’m not arguing that.  _ The violet eyed lover  _ was just a lover. I am not, nor ever will be, his true love.”

“Please.” Jaskier rolled his eyes. His bit his tongue in concentration and with one final stroke was able to cut through the ropes. He wanted to rub at his raw wrists but there was no time so he started working on Yennefer’s ties.

“Don’t  _ please  _ me Jaskier. I will admit there was love at one point. I don’t know what sort of love but it wasn’t as strong as true love. True love can not come from a wish Jaskier. We were forced together so many times because of the djinn it’s hard to know what emotions were real and which were exaggerated.” Yennefer’s voice was soft and hurt and Jaskier felt a tug at his heart for her. 

“There’s no one else.” Jaskier hissed. “Which I suppose is a good thing because then no one can lift that blasted blade.”

Yennefer turned her head and gave him an odd look as her bonds finally broke. Jaskier began on their feet, humming a little song to help pass the time.

“Are men normally this thick-headed?” Yennefer asked as she stretched her legs. He was now working on his legs, glad the henchmen had decided to not bother with a guard and just go to sleep. They could run off with no problem. 

Jaskier looked at Pegasus across the fire light and vowed he would return for her and his lute no matter what it took.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Jaskier said as the insult finally registered.

He hopped to his feet and helped Yennefer up. It would be difficult to her to run with her arms still cuffed behind her back but it was still better than nothing. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes and started moving, her long black dress hardly creating a whisper as they moved stealthily through the trees. 

Jaskier dug into his other pocket for his other knife and held it tightly in his other hand. He was on edge as they made their way through the forest. It was good that he was because after maybe twenty minutes of walking an arrow zoomed by his ear and hit a tree a few inches in front of him.

He could hear yelling behind him and Jaskier cursed.

They’d been found.


	6. True Love Doesn't Feel A Mile Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: some fighting violence

There wasn't anywhere to go. They could keep running but Yennefer was unfortunately a liability and Jaskier had no idea where they were. Running further into the unknown woods was just as dangerous as facing the men six men. Luckily, some of the men looked scrawnier than even Jaskier which meant as long as he could take them out first he had a chance. 

Yennefer twisted out of the way as another arrow shot past where her shoulder was. The archer was definitely a problem. He would have to use the trunks of the trees as his shield and hope that the men wouldn't be able to surround them. The men that were racing towards them had torches in hand so it was easy to spot them, but Jaskier only could tell that the archer was somewhere to the left. He told that to Yennefer and ushered her behind a tree as one of the faster men finally came within Jaskier's reach.

Jaskier didn't hesitate to lash out, his knife finding its intended target in the chest. The man had enough sense to lean back so the cut wasn't as shallow as Jaskier would have liked and Jaskier dived forward again, closing the space between them to this time slash with both of his throwing knives. There was no chance for the man now and he slumped down to the ground just as two others rushed forward to take his place.

He was aware of the others circling around them, pushing them back to the campfire where there was more open ground and less trees to hide behind. Jaskier tried to keep Yennefer covered but it was getting harder and harder with each slash of his knives. With a well practiced aim, Jaskier risked throwing one of his knives. It would leave him with only one to defend himself but his aim was true at he had taken down another bad guy, the blade driving itself into the man's eye and piercing his brain. 

Jaskier heard a startled shriek behind him and he whirled around to try and face Yennefer, which meant the other henchman he'd been fighting was able to dig his knife into the bard's shoulder. He grimaced but was determined to help Yennefer. The sorceress though was proving that she didn't need her hands in a fight. She angrily stomped her foot on the man holding her elbow and then arched backwards to then head slam him. There was an awful sound as skull met skull and the man went down with Yennefer not even looking dazed.

"Who's the thick-headed one now?" He managed to wheeze out before the pain of the blade in his arm caught up with him again and he refocused on the man in front of him. His other throwing knife was still buried in the dead guys eye so he would have to make due with his fists and his remaining knife. He dodged and lunged his way through the trees with Yennefer close at his heels. He managed to block another blow from one of the men and then found himself and Yennefer back at the campsite.

The horses were neighing nervously as the men trickled out of the forest. There were definitely way more men then before and Jaskier could only wonder at how Jean had managed to gather so many others. Jaskier still hadn't caught sight of the archer which was even more troubling.

The moon was still high above them but it gave little comfort in the ways of being able to see. 

"I think it's about time we put a stop to this." Jean said. Jaskier tilted his head to see the leader of the group casually sitting on a log, the Bone Blade at his feet and Jaskier's own dagger in his hand. He was using it to clean his nails and Jaskier wanted to bash his head in right there and then.

"You two should have just sat quietly and waited for your rescuer." Jean shook his head as if he was scolding children and stood up from the log, his eyes never leaving where the dagger was cleaning his nails. "Now, if you two would-" Jean was cut off as a flash of red tackled him from the side. It didn't knock him fully over but he dropped Jaskier's dagger so he could cup his cheek where the creature had sliced at it with its nails.

He let out a howl of pain as Triss landed roughly on the ground, giving a warning bark. 

There was silence as the henchmen and Jean tried to process what had happened, and Jaskier took that to his advantage. If Triss was back, then that meant Geralt was here too. He did not need that Witcher distracting him from tearing down anyone he could get his hands on. Especially Jean. That was _Jaskier's_ fucking dagger that _Geralt_ had given him and that bastard was using it as a pick for his dirty nails!

Jaskier reached the dropped dagger just as Geralt burst through the trees. Jaskier swallowed roughly as he took in the sight before him. Geralt looked absolutely _terrible_ in the moonlight but unlike the fear that normal people would have, Jaskier was really enjoying it. Geralt's chest was heaving against his armour as his eyes flickered around the group, his black eyes settling on Jaskier. The first time Jaskier had seen Geralt use Swallow he nearly shit his pants. The man had been as pale as death and had bulging black veins that stretched their way across his face and down his neck and who knew how much further down. His eyes had been a black void for they had become so dilated by the potion. After Jaskier had gotten over his fear he'd rushed over to help the Witcher and reassure him that he was as scary as a wet kitten. Geralt hadn't believed him but Jaskier hadn't missed how the hulking man had relaxed when Jaskier had touched his arm like normal to lead him out of the swamp that he had been fighting the Kikimore.

After seeing Geralt like this multiple times throughout the decade the fear had eventually dissipated into something a little more inconvenient for their current situation. Jaskier licked his lips which had dried as soon as Geralt had stepped into the moonlight looking all devilishly handsome and ready to rip everyone's head off. Geralt's eyes followed the tongue movement and Jaskier swallowed again.

The moment was broken as he felt a sharp kick to his head and he was sent to the ground. Right, they were in the middle of a fight and Jean had just kicked him upside the head because he was ogling his ex-best friend. At least he still had the dagger in his hold. 

His head was now pounding but he was aware of Yennefer rushing toward Geralt and demanding him to take the cuffs off her. Geralt ripped them off with little to no problem and Jaskier was very glad he was on their side and not on their opponents. His head was now aching from the kick but he had to start moving. The men were now starting to attack and he wasn't going to sit back and let Yennefer and Geralt have all the fun.

Triss scurried over to him and he caught her in one arm as he rolled away from Jean who had tried to stomp on his head again. Jaskier forced himself to push off the wave of dizziness as he scrambled to his feet and sprinted towards Pegasus. He knew Triss wanted to help but she wasn't able to do much in this form. He apologized as he settled her on Pegasus' back and then rushed back into the fray. 

There was a moment when Geralt was suddenly at his side and he could tell the man had questions for him but now was not the time. Geralt was too distracted with whatever he wanted to say that he missed the man with the arm wound that Jaskier had inflected the day before, coming towards him ready to lop off his head with an axe. 

Jaskier dashed in front of Geralt and slashed his dagger downwards. The blade split the man's forehead all the way down to his chin and Jaskier felt a wave of satisfaction as the man fell backwards. The bard felt a heavy hand grip his shoulder and the Witcher pressed against his back.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Geralt's voice was always deep but it was even more pronounced and growley when he had taken Swallow and Jaskier felt a shiver go down his spine.

"We can talk about it later," Jaskier hissed just as another arrow shot by them. Geralt reflected it with his sword and it bounced away to hit a bad guy in the knee. Jaskier turned in the direction of the arrow and finally spotted the arrow. _Got you now fucker_ , he thought triumphantly to himself. He spun his throwing knife in his hand and let it sore through the air. It met the archer directly in the neck and Jaskier raised his arm in triumph before remembering that was where the shoulder wound was.

"You're hurt." Geralt's voice sounded _worried_ , and no that couldn't be. Geralt had made it clear he didn't give a damn about Jaskier.

"I'm right as rain." Jaskier put false bravado in his voice and tried to ignore Geralt's growl of displeasure as it rumbled from the Witcher's chest to Jaskier's back. When had Geralt slid up behind him again and why was he that close?

Yennefer huffed by them and raised a single brow. 

"Can you two quit flirting and fucking help me!" 

She let out a blast of magic, sending three men flying high into the air, their bodies hitting the tree branches with sickening cracks as they came back down. The smell of chaos whirled around them but Jaskier felt safe when it wasn't directed towards him.

"We're not flirting." Jaskier sputtered, stomping his foot and realizing how childish that made him seem.

"Aren't we?" Geralt asked and Jaskier looked up at him in surprise.

Who the hell had given the Witcher _the right_ to come here all cocksured and trying to sweep Jaskier off his feet. Was this a doppler instead? Had Geralt hit his head on the way down the mountain and forgotten how much her surely hated the bard?

"We need to get Triss back to normal and then we need to get the Bone Blade." Yennefer gave another huff and spread her hands out, creating a shield around the three of them so none of their attackers could get them.

Geralt rumbled a questioning hmm and Jaskier found himself falling back into the habit of translating what Geralt was asking.

"The Bone Blade is real." Yennefer said grimly and pointed it towards where it was lying next to the log Jean had vacated minutes earlier. 

"The witch that cursed Triss was really after you. She was cursed in such a way that I can only undo it with you nearby. The minute she's released from the curse the witch will be summoned and she's going to use the bone blade against you. Either way we're fucking screwed. We should get Triss out of here and at least have the witch be summoned somewhere nowhere near the bone knife but our options seem limited right now. Those cuffs have done a number on me I'm not proud to admit and with how many bad guys there are left I will need Triss to help me."

"You want to summon the crazy witch in the middle of all this?" Jaskier windmilled his one good arm, nearly clipping Geralt in the chin with his dagger. 

"I have a bit of a plan." Yennefer said as Geralt easily batted away Jaskier's arm.

"She believes that I'm Geralt's true love. We just play along. It'll be hard for me to act like that sword isn't heavy but once she's distracted enough to believe that I'm going to kill Geralt, I'm going to have Triss attack her and then you're going to take the sword from me and you're _going to kill her."_

"Why would the sword work for me?" Jaskier asked. "I'm _not_ Geralt's true love. If I was then I wouldn't have been crying my eyes out in front of you because the Witcher over here grabbed my heart and tossed it over the side of the mountain. If I _was_ Geralt's true love then he wouldn't hate me. He wouldn't want me out of his life, and he wouldn't think of me as being pathetic and worthless and -" Jaskier couldn't stop talking and the tears were filling up in his eyes.

This was neither the time nor the place but he had to let it out. He had to understand why Yennefer was pushing this storyline that Jaskier would be the one who could handle the Bone Blade and not her.

He only stopped his rambling when a firm set of lips met his and suddenly he was being kissed. It wasn't at all like he had fantasized about it. It was tender and hesitant, not at all like the hard and rough kiss that centered in most of his dreams. His shoulder in the dream scenario also wouldn't be on fire when he lifted his hand up to cup Geralt's chin, to feel the black veins under Geralt's smooth skin. 

They pulled away and Jaskier whined at the loss. Geralt just rested his forehead against the bard's and breathed in deeply.

"I'm sorry." Geralt's hand clutched tighter around where it had fallen to Jaskier's hip and Jaskier was aware of Yennefer's impatient huff but he was too focused on Geralt now.

Destiny could allow them a few more seconds.

"I shouldn't have said those things on the mountain. I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting and...I'm not good with words _Jask."_ Geralt's looked at Jaskier with almost desperate eyes. "I understand if you won't forgive me. I need to apologize too for how I treated you before, but I can't lose you now. I need you." Geralt's words were soft and filled the empty space in Jaskier's heart.

"We're going to have a long talk after all this," Jaskier twirled a piece of Geralt's hair that had fallen out of its ponytail and leaned forward for another kiss. "And they're going to be very angry words and I'm going to make you _beg_ and _grovel_ on your knees." He whispered the words between kisses and gave a low grunt as Geralt pulled their lower halves together.

"And then I'm going to forgive you and you're going to fuck me within an inch of my life-"

" _And_ you can do that _when we're not in the middle of this fight."_ Yennefer groused. "You have a fucking audience."

The two pulled apart and Jaskier smiled sheepishly. 

"Right. Now that its all settled and you two pulled your heads out of your asses, it's time we finish this."

Geralt cleared his throat and rumbled an apology to Yennefer.

She took it with grace and nodded her forgiveness, though it was clear he would be making it up to her for a long time.

Yennefer dropped her shield and they made their way back into the fight. 


	7. The Bone Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter coming up!! Thank you for all the support and it was fun writing this for you all :)
> 
> it will be posted 8/2/20

They seemed to be finally getting somewhere. It seemed like there never ending sea of bad guys was dwindling and Jaskier was very thankful for that. He could hold his own but he didn't have the stamina of a Witcher or a Sorceress, though Yennefer was starting to tire out as well. Jaskier could see it by the sweat on brow and how defeated she had sounded about needing Triss' help soon.

Jaskier was now facing Jean, who had taken a sword off of one of his men and was valiantly defending himself and the Bone Blade. 

"I told you that you should have let us go!" Jaskier called to him, dodging and rolling out of the way of Jean's sword. The burn in his shoulder increased with each roll but it was background to him as he focused on the fight.

He suddenly felt a warm glow from behind him and he knew that Yennefer had initiated the spell. Jaskier turned just enough to see Yennefer taking a cloak from Pegasus' pack and wrapping Triss up in it before he had to return his attention again to Jean. He was fighting like a man with nothing to lose. Which, given that his failure was determined by a witch's punishment, maybe it was smart if he died protecting the blade instead of facing her.

And the witch would be here soon. 

With one misplaced thrust, Jean was off balance and Jaskier took his chance, digging his dagger through the man's chest.

Jaskier yanked his dagger out and wiped the blood off on Jean's corpse before resheathing it. He felt sick as he looked around the massacre of bodies he had been a cause of and stumbled over to the Bone Blade. Yennefer was at his heel's and she squatted down to lift it. Her hands shook with the effort of it as the fur fell away and the sickle like blade was revealed. Jaskier hadn't noticed before but the handle was encrusted with pale green jewels and there were words etched into the white of the blade. It was too dark to read but the bone had been polished to an almost milky white sort of mirror and the moonlight reflected the dips where the words were.

"I can smell her coming." Geralt grunted and Triss pulled the cloak tighter around her bare shoulders. It snapped all the way up so there was no fear of it falling open as she made a quick dive into the underbrush surrounding them to hide and wait for her cue.

Geralt's back was stiff and Jaskier pressed a hand firmly against it, trying to give the Witcher some comfort. Yennefer flanked his other side, her grip strong on the blade though he could see a slight tremor in her arms.

There was a bitter smell in the air now and a loud crackling noise as a woman popped into view. She looked wild, her black hair a mess, dark under eye bags and sunken cheeks. Her dress was similar to Yennefer in style but was a murky blue. Jaskier's eyes dipped down to her hand where a white ring stood out against her gloved hand. The Bone Ring.

"The Butcher of Blaviken." The woman's smile was dagger's and her voice was a whispery croak. It sounded strained to Jaskier's ears and he had to lean forward so he could hear her better.

"Do I know you?" Geralt grumbled and the bitter smell of Chaos grew stronger.

"You don't remember slaughtering my lover before my eyes  _ Witcher!?"  _ The witches voice became shrill and Jaskier found himself taking a step back. 

"I remember killing a werewolf who had been feasting on the little girls of the village."

The witch shrieked again and raised her hand, sending a wave of magic their way. Yennefer dodged less gracefully since she had the weight of the sword with her, and Geralt easily plucked Jaskier by the back of his doublet to get out of the way of the rush of black magic. It hit a tree behind them, turning it dark and twisted like it had been left to smoulder for a fortnight. 

"Now you'll see." The witch was shaking and she brought the ring to her mouth. "When you're forced to kill your own lover because she'll be unstoppable in her quest to kill you!"

The witch let out a loud cackle and the ring glowed with a faint white light that was echoed by the blade. The scythe seemed to move of its own accord as Yennefer made her way toward Geralt. Her eyes were wide and her words were frantic as she told Geralt to get out of the way. Jaskier felt a shiver of fear as he moved away from the two of them. He was uneasy, either Yennefer was really good at acting or the blade's control was powerful enough to take over Yennefer. The blade was still heavy - he could see it in the set of her shoulders and the awkward grip she had - but when she raised to strike the blade went swiftly like a butter knife cutting through butter. Geralt jumped out of the way and frowned and flickered his eyes towards Jaskier.

"Yen, you don't need to do this." 

Jaskier could hear the pleading tone in Geralt's voice and he felt anger when he noticed the witch gleaming at the fight. Yennefer was swinging her arms wildly while Geralt either met each blow with his own sword or avoided the hit entirely. They were circling each other and Jaskier became aware of Yennefer's feet becoming more sure of themselves and of her strikes getting closer and closer to Geralt than before. He could see a glimmer of fear in her eyes and he knew that they hadn't thought this through. They hadn't thought that the sword would still be able to control someone who wasn't the true love of the target. 

He would have believed that Yennefer was Geralt's true love, that they'd been wrong about saying it was him, if not for the fact the sword never became lighter in Yennefer's hands, and the way Geralt kept looking at Jaskier to make sure he was safe and that their circling didn't go anywhere near him.

Without thinking, screw the plan, he dashed towards the witch. She seemed to have forgotten about him, too enthralled by the thought of Geralt being killed, so when he tackled her to the ground she wasn't able to do anything.

Her magic coursed around her, choking the air Jaskier was breathing in but he wasn't going to let this  _ bitch  _ hurt Geralt. He heard a shout behind him as Geralt called his name and then a clang as his sword and the Bone Blade met once again. He pushed the witch further into the ground, wrestling her boney limbs to keep still so she couldn't use her magic. She snarled at him and managed to raise one hand up to his face. He closed his eyes, preparing for the chaos to overtake him when Triss bound over to them and struck the witch in the face with a bolt of magic. Triss' magic made the choking feeling go away as her slightly less bitter smelling magic tangled with the other witches.

Triss urged him to get the sword from Yennefer and he jumped off the witch, allowing Triss to fight magic with magic.

Yennefer's face was paling as he drew nearer and he could tell she was about to collapse but the sword wouldn't let her. With the witch efficiently distracted he could only hope that the Bone Ring didn't hold power over the sword and its holder anymore. 

Jaskier yanked the blade out of Yennefer's hands and he stumbled as a white light engulfed him and the sword. He felt like he was glowing and from the way everyone had turned to look at him he knew he wasn't imagining it. Jaskier didn't feel exhausted anymore or sore, and his shoulder no longer hurt. It was as if he had just woken from a restful night in the best bed in the world where no nightmares of his father or Geralt dying could ever reach him. His hand adjusted to hold the sword firmly more and it felt like the perfect weight in his hands. He gave it an experimental swing and it slashed through the air with a  _ hiss. _

"No." The witch hissed, reaching for her ring, but Triss blasted her with more magic which sent the witch flying backwards into a tree. She was momentarily stunned and Jaskier took his chance. He ran fast, faster than he ever had before, the blade almost pulsing in his hands. Triss lunged out of the way as he careened towards the fallen witch. She was only able to look up at him with a stunned and enraged look before  _ his _ blade sliced through her neck, cutting it clean off.

He shuddered to a stop beside the body and stepped over it to step on her fingers, crushing the Bone Ring beneath his heeled boot. The Bone Blade hummed with energy until he dropped it besides the witches corpse. The white light instantly died and he felt his muscles become sore and his shoulder start to throb again.

Jaskier staggered away from the blade and the witch and straight towards Geralt. He was aware of Triss running over and kneeling besides Yennefer, her small hands cupping Yennefer's face asking if the sorceress was alright.

Jaskier didn't focus on that for long because all he  _ wanted,  _ no, all he  _ needed  _ was Geralt.

He had started to fall forward when Geralt caught him, pulling him close to his chest.

"You did good." Geralt said as his large hands settled around Jaskiers waist and he leaned his head down an inch so they were forehead to forehead.

"Wanna kiss y'u" Jaskier slurred. He was unsteady on his feet and he felt himself sinking to the ground with Geralt following. His shoulder was now back to feeling firey hot and he heard Geralt yelling something towards the women. Everything was starting to look blurry and Jaskier wanted the pain to go away. He tried to move his arm to reassure Geralt with his touch but he could only groan as his shoulder pulsed white hot.

The last thing he heard before everything went dark was Geralt pleading for him to stay awake.

††††

Jaskier didn't know how much time had passed. He remembered waking up in complete agony, his whole body jostling up and down as if he were on a horse, and hearing Geralt telling him to hold on. The next time he awoke it had been dark and he'd slipped back into unconsciousness just as quickly as he'd broken free from it.

He opened his eyes now to soft sunlight coming through the window. It lit up the small room he was in and he sighed in relief at feeling the soft downy mattress beneath his body and the warm quilt on top. 

A grunt was heard from his right and he came face to face with a sleepy looking Geralt and he realized a pressure around his hand. He looked down to see Geralt had interlaced their fingers together.

“You look like shit.” Jaskier croaked, turning away to cough into his elbow. Geralt nudged a glass of water towards him and he drank eagerly, only slowing when Geralt warned him he would throw up.

Geralt still hasn't released his hand.

“I take it my injury was worse than I thought.”

“You were out for two days.” Geralt replied gruffly.

Jaskier winced and tried to sit up, relieved his shoulder wasn't on fire anymore but it still ached like a bitch. He could feel a tight bandage wrapped around his shoulder and part of his upper chest.

Geralt let him get readjusted before standing up.

“Triss and Yennefer are eager to see you.” 

Jaskier pouted. “I'm eager to see them too but you're the only one I want to see right now.”

He tugged at their enclasped hands til Geralt arranged himself on the bed on his side, facing Jaskier. Their hands were folded on Jaskier’s chest, while Geralt’s free hand supported his head up and Jaskier’s other hand twiddled across his thighs in a nervous habit.

“Hi.” He said softly and Geralt’s mouth twitched at the corner in a smile. 

“Hm.”

“I'll have to admit, I'm too tired right now to really lay it on you.”

Geralt lifted an eyebrow and hesitantly pulled his hand out if Jaskier’s so he could cup the younger man’s face. 

“I remember asking for a kiss.” Jaskier’s eyes looked down at Geralt’s mouth and back up to his gold eyes when Geralt still hadn't made a move.

“I want you to know that I’m sorry.” Geralt started and Jaskier cut him off with a kiss.

“Later. We have all the time in the world now.” 

Geralt smiled an actual full smile and Jaskier tugged him closer, kissing him as if they would never be able to kiss again.

Geralt’s hand moved from his cheek down to his waist and started tugging at his shirt, slipping his large calloused hands onto Jaskier’s bare skin. Jaskier hitched a breath as Geralt moved downwards, his lips trailing down his neck to his collarbone and staying there.

The door swung open and the hand on his waist tightened hard enough to bruise as Geralt growled a warning.

Yennefer and Triss stood in the doorway, the latter looking sheepish while Yennefer looked smug.

“I see you two love birds are keeping cozy.”

Jaskier felt his face flush as Geralt moved away to the chair he had been sitting in when Jaskier had awoken. He missed the warmth of the Witcher’s hand and tried to keep the pout off his face. 

Triss walked over first and gave Jaskier a large hug. The curls of her hair tickled his nose and he resisted the urge to sneeze as he hugged her back.

“Glad to see you in one piece.”

“You too.” Jaskier replied cheekily.

She kissed him on the cheek and they both laughed when Geralt let out a growl and turned his head away in embarrassment.

“Thank you for all you did.” She said and settled herself at the edge of the bed so Yennefer could walk over next. 

“Your wound had dirt, blood, guts, and everything in between. With the added strain from using your weapons it's astonishing your shoulder was able to be fully repaired.”

She smoothed her dress down as she sat and moved his bangs off his forehead.

“So I’ll live to play the lute again?” Jaskier asked.

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Don't worry  _ bard.  _ The world will hear your music once more.”

She gave his hand a squeeze before standing up beside Geralt and addressing him.

“The Bone Blade is still a matter of issue.”

They were comfortable in each other's spaces again so clearly they had found time to talk during the time Jaskier was out. He felt a little jealous but clamped it down when he remembered Geralt kissing him and waiting for him to wake up with worried eyes.

“The blade no longer can be controlled since you destroyed the ring,” she turned to Jaskier now as she talked, “and it's still too heavy for any of us. It seems that when the ring was destroyed the sword was left with whoever it was last meant to be used on, aka Geralt. So only his true love can use it still so it's officially yours.”

Jaskier gave an unenthused clap.

“Maybe I will trade in my lute so I can happily cull grain with my fancy sickle. Get a farmer's tan, I think I'd look good with some color to my skin.”

Geralt huffed in amusement but Yennefer wasn't having it.

“Jaskier you have to take this seriously. That is a powerful weapon that might I remind you,  _ only you  _ can wield comfortably.”

Jaskier studied the sheets that he had bunched in his hands as he remembered how he felt holding it. The light that had came from him and the Bone Blade.

“I'll think about it.” He said softly. It was one thing to carry his throwing knives and his dagger. It was another to have the infamous Bone Blade strapped to his back next to his lute.

He was a bard. He wasn't supposed to be a dashing and daring hero, slaying monsters by Geralt’s side. He only went after human monsters that tried to rob him or kill him in the night. Men like his father. He vowed he would tell Geralt about everything, about his father, about why he knew how to fight but never practiced it when Geralt was around. 

With the Bone Blade could he ever return to normalcy? Just watching and documenting as Gerlat took down noonwraiths and drowners. Sure he would come to Geralt’s aid from time to time but never like this.

He had felt powerful using the blade. It had taken away his fatigue and sores; had made his shoulder injury null.But he had also felt terrified deep down under the awe and power. Terrified of what that raw energy could be used for.

What if he didn't play the helpless bard anymore?

Yennefer didn't look too happy but Triss had placed a hand on her thigh and the violet eyed sorceress kept quiet.

“We’ll let you sleep in a little more. We should be able to leave tomorrow.” Triss said gently and started tugging at Yennefer to follow.

Yennefer allowed her though, and before exiting the room she turned around to gleefully say, “enjoy your new guard wolf,” and shut the door before Geralt could do anything but grumble.

Jaskier smiled and patted the side of the bed beside him so Geralt would come back. The Witcher came over and slid under the covers, tugging the bard close to his chest, careful of Jaskier’s injured shoulder.

Jaskier let himself fall asleep to the slow lull of Geralt’s heartbeat against his ear and the smell of the  _ wild  _ that was Geralt, surrounding him. 


	8. All's Well That Ends Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sex this chapter.

Jaskier woke up in a cold sweat, the nightmare fading from his memory as he scrambled to grab onto Geralt for purchase. He needed something to ground him, and a big overprotective Witcher was a good person to have.

Geralt made a murmuring sound and pulled Jaskier to his chest. His nose nuzzled Jaskier’s head and he placed a kiss on his hairline.

“Are you ok?” He grumbled.

Jaskier tries to answer but he's still shivering and he needs a moment to gather himself. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt grumbled again. Jaskier tilted his head up to kiss Geralt’s bared throat and rolled away slightly. 

“It was just a nightmare.”

“Did it have anything to do with how well practiced you are with a dagger? Or about how you can wield those throwing knives?”

Jaskier winced. “Straight to the point I see.”

He then remembered that one of his throwing knives was inside a guy's skull, and who knew where the other one was. Maybe they had remembered to bring his dagger?

As if reading Jaskier's mind, Geralt motioned to the nightstand drawer.

“They're all cleaned and in there.”

“Thank you, right, yes. Onto...more pressing matters eh?”

He sat up and fiddled with the sheet as Geralt followed suit. Geralt arranged them so they were facing each other knee to knee. 

“Well, what do you want to know?” Jaskier laughed uneasily. While it was true that he wanted Geralt to know everything, it was an entire other thing to actually tell  _ everything  _ to him. 

“The weapons.”

Jaskier chuckled again, this time happily. He should have guessed that the matter of him being able to fight was the most pressing question on the Witcher’s mind.

“How did you think I survived when we would go our separate ways?”

“I assumed you were with troupes. Or at some wealthy Lord or Ladies estate.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes good-naturally. “I suppose that does make sense, and I won't lie, when you go to Kaer Morhen I usually do just that. But for those few weeks we don't see each other in less wintery months, and before I ever met you, I have to be able to defend myself. I actually learned it in my childhood. My father deemed it appropriate that I should learn sword fighting and hand to hand combat. It didn't mesh well with the life of a child, wake up early for studying all day and then get sent on your ass by a sword trainer at night. It began to get hard to tell whether the bruises were from my father or my trainer getting in a good punch."

Geralt frowned at the nonchalant comment about Jaskier's father and Jaskier tried to wave it off.

"What's done is done. I won't lie, he was a horrid man who didn't give a shit about his family and used me as one of his favorite targets but....I wanted to tell you everything about me, not just my weapons trainings. So I have to lay it all out for you."

Jaskier took a deep breath and continued.

“I actually ended up having a keen eye for long distance weapons - I threw a spear at one point, not something anyone can do let me tell you - which is how I ended up switching from a sword to a bow and arrow. It wasn't til I got to Oxenfurt that I learned about throwing knives. My roommate at the time helped taught me and gifted me my first set when I was sixteen. The dagger wasn't until you gave me one those couple years back. I managed to find my old trainer and he kept me practicing when you weren't around to spar."

Geralt gently took Jaskier's hands into his own and traced the calluses on his fingers and palms with a light finger.

"I always thought they were only from your lute."

"Well it would have only been the lute if my father didn't think that music was for the common people and I should have _real_ proper schooling. I was being taught by only the most esteemed tutors, ones for arithmetic and economy and boring other things that would mold me into the perfect man to take over the estate when my father died. I mean what little child doesn't dream of being a Viscount and collecting taxes and ruling over a county or what not -”

“Wait, Viscount?”

“Ah, yes. Jaskier isn’t my actual name..”

“I figured as much. I just thought your actual name wasn’t to your taste so you changed it.”

“Well you’re not quite wrong. My full name and title is Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove.”

Geralt looked him up and down and Jaskier felt fear grip at his heart. He had heard Geralt grouch about nobles a million times in the last decade. He didn’t think that Geralt would treat him any differently now that he knew but there was still that seed of doubt.

“You don’t look like a Julian to me.” Geralt said with a shrug and Jaskier relaxed immediately. 

"I also figured it'd be harder to trace me back to Lettenhove if I changed my name. I had a nanny, Lorelei, who would sneak me into the city so I could see what it was like outside the pompous courts and upper class. She was the one who truly treated me like a person instead of a job or a future heir. Her daughter, Essi Daven, was and still is my closest friend. Essi and I meet up occasionally and she's become a bard herself so now we can play together in taverns. She, like her mother, never cared for titles or who I was _supposed_ to become. Essi's father had a passion for music and when Lorelei would sneak me away he would teach me how to play the lute. She used to call me buttercup and well it sort of stuck. The last time I saw her was a month or two before she died. A year or two after I went to Oxenfurt."

He looked around the room at that moment and was happy to see his lute was on the seat of a chair. Maybe now that he had Geralt back he'd be able to compose. 

"Well between my love for the lute and my actually giving a _fuck_ about Lettenhove's citizens, my father was far from pleased. He threatened to disown me, or to cut me off from the world until I was to take over for him. So at fourteen I ran away and did odd jobs all over. I would go to poorer places and offer my writing and reading skills, almost became a teacher but I had no education outside of tutors myself. One day, I met a man who was looking for a tutor for his son. His son, Herbert, was failing all his classes at Oxenfurt and he needed someone to get Herbert through til graduation because it would be a stain on the families name if Herbert flunked. I offered to help if the Lord would pay for me to attend the college as well. I guess he was just that desperate and we shook on it. He didn't go back on his word either and continued paying for my classes long after Herbert had graduated."

While he had been talking, Geralt had sneakily pulled Jaskier into his lap and was not disturbing Jaskier's long ramble the way he normally would. He just made 'Hm's' at appropriate times and held Jaskier close to his chest.

"Oxenfurt was a dream come true. I was away from my family, I was learning things that actually interested me and I could play my lute for extra cash at the local tavern. They even had a music hall that I play for sometimes still. And after I graduated I learned that the roads were rough and my hand to hand combat and throwing knives became handy as I tried to make it as a bard. And then I met you and....well no one's safer to be with than a Witcher."

Geralt gave a low growl and Jaskier gave his chest a playful shove.

"Oh come off it. You play the big bad guy but we both know you would never let anyone hurt me. You made me feel the safest I've ever felt in....well a _very_ long time."

Geralt "Hm'd" again and pulled the bard closer.

"But I did hurt you," the older man all but whispered.

"I won't sugar coat it. You certainly did. I gave you ten years of my life, ten! and you throw it all away because you weren't angry at anyone but yourself and what you had done. I'll admit that I played a part in it, but I'm not the full blame. It wasn't I who made the Djinn wish. I didn't claim law of surprise."

Geralt pulled away a little so he could look at Jaskier. Gold eyes met blue ones that were starting to tear up.

"I'm sorry Jaskier. I don't know what I can do to make it up to you." He looked surprised when Jaskier leaned in and kissed him on the lips. It was short but unexpected nonetheless.

"Just promise me you'll never do that again." Jaskier met Geralt's lips again as the Witcher mumbled a promise against him.

"And," Jaskier pulled away with a teasing smile, "you have to apologize for calling my singing a filling less pie."

Geralt rolled his eyes but turned serious a second later. "I apologize for saying that. You have a beautiful voice _Jask,_ I'm not much of a music fan but even I can appreciate your talents."

Jaskier flushed.

"So many words today Witcher, you leave a man speechless."

"Hm." Geralt raised an eyebrow and Jaskier moved his legs til he was straddling the Witcher's waist between his thighs. "I'm not _just_ any man." He tilted his head and dove in to kiss Geralt, all thoughts were pushed aside as Geralt nipped at his bottom lip. He groaned and opened his mouth, giving Geralt's tongue easy access. Jaskier didn't know where he wanted to put his hands, just that he wanted them everywhere at once. They traveled up and down Geralt's arms and around his neck to play with his hair. A particularly sharp tug of the hair at the base of the Witcher's scalp had him make an almost _purring_ sound.

Geralt's hands went to Jaskier's hips and kept him pressed tightly against him as he leaned forward so Jaskier's back was now on the bed and Geralt was hovering over him. Jaskier used the change in position to thrust upwards. He smirked as he felt Geralt was just as hard as he was, and he thrusted up again, craving the friction that was setting his lower stomach aflame.

"Please," Jaskier all but whimpered.

Geralt growled and used one hand to pull at Jaskier's shirt, while the other pressed his hips into the mattress so they couldn't thrust up again. Jaskier could feel himself hardening more at the thought that Geralt could keep him down with only one hand. As soon as Jaskier's shirt was off, Geralt was nipping and sucking up and down Jaskier's throat. Between moans Jaskier was begging for Geralt to go lower, to _touch him more._ Geralt was holding himself above the bard enough so their bodies were almost touching. Only Jaskier's legs wrapped around Geralt's waist had been able to maintain contact.

Geralt was suddenly moving away and unwrapping Jaskier's legs from his waist. Jaskier writhed on the bed and made a pleading noise as Geralt walked away.

"Geralt!? Geralt where are you going?"

He unbuttoned his pants and forced them down over his tenting erection. He felt his heart beat frantically as he threw his pants at Geralt.

"I swear to everything holy if you leave right now I'll make Yennefer turn you into a toad! Or I could just tell Roach what you have done and she'll stomp on your toes you spineless-"

Jaskier cut himself off as he saw Geralt holding up a bottle full of scented oil.

"Oh right well next time tell me you're going to go get oil." Jaskier tried not to pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. Geralt ambled back over to the bed and Jaskier's legs fell open to accommodate him. He placed the oil up by the pillows and placed both his hands on Jaskier's cheeks as he covered Jaskier's body with his own.

"I would _never_ leave you." 

Jaskier felt his face flush as he looked at Geralt's eyes. They seemed to be staring straight into his soul and he reached up to push a strand of white hair back behind the Witcher's ear.

"I believe you love." Jaskier said softly, enjoying the way Geralt's face blushed a pale pink.

"Now get the rest of your clothes off so you can fuck me. It's unfair that I'm the only one in my underwear! Are you actually wearing socks Geralt? _Socks_ in bed? Are you that paranoid someone was going to break in here and you had to be battle ready? Surprised the swords aren't on your back as we speak-mff"

Geralt had seemed to stop listening after Jaskier had told him he wanted to be fucked, because his clothes were flying off left and right, and now Geralt was shutting him up with a kiss that was sloppy and wet but somehow still managed to feel like the best thing in the world. Geralt's large hands were bracketing Jaskier's hips as he trailed open-mouth kisses down his chest and to his stomach, stopping inches from the waistband.

Jaskier gave a hesitant twitch of his hips and Geralt growled and sank his mouth over Jaskier's clothed erection, making the bard give a high-pitched noise.

"You-you're supposed to...take off the," he huffed as Geralt nudged the erection with his lips and started blowing cold air onto the tip where a bit of pre-come had soaked through the underwear, "supposed to take off the underwear you giant ox." Jaskier finished with a groan.

"Hm?"

"Oh don't _hm_ me! Put your mouth around my actual dick!"

Geralt gave small noise which was probably laughter and slowly pulled the underwear down. Jaskier felt hot and sweaty but it was a good combination and he really wanted Geralt inside of him. He didn't want slow right now, he wanted hard and fast. He was just about to tell Geralt so when his dick was engulfed by the Witcher's warm and wet mouth. There was a slight brush of Geralt's teeth around the base and Jaskier thrusted upwards without a thought. He groaned low and long when he felt the Witcher's approving hum.

Oh gods, did Geralt want him to throat fuck him?

Jaskier gave a tentative upward thrust again and this time Geralt's hands went underneath him to support his ass. Geralt took him all the way down and Jaskier bit at his thumb to keep an extremely loud moan from escaping.

Geralt removed his mouth and looked over Jaskier's dick and down towards him.

"I won't continue until I hear _every_ noise you can make."

Jaskier was surprised he hadn't came right there and then. Geralt _wanting_ to hear him? 

"Please Geralt." He huffed as said man's tongue moved towards his inner thigh and started sucking at it. There would be a mark there tomorrow no question about it. Jaskier didn't hold back any noises as Geralt sucked harder and his hands started kneading Jaskier's ass cheeks.

Brought a whole new meaning to ' _bread in his pants.'_

Geralt sank his mouth back down and Jaskier's brain went offline again. He reached down to pull at Geralt's hair and kept whispering and shouting praises. He was seconds from letting go when Geralt pulled off of him and yanked Jaskier harshly even more upwards so he was slightly uncomfortable and his legs were spread higher and even wider. As Geralt reached across to grab the oil, Jaskier saw how red and full the Witcher's lips were now and he groaned once more, fingers digging into the sheets with vehemence, he was certain he'd be able to tear these sheets in two.

"Ah, ah _yes."_ His yes was drawn out like a hiss as Geralt's oiled up fingers brushed against his hole. Geralt dipped his hand in more oil and stuck a finger in. He waited for Jaskier to adjust before adding a second and then third finger in. Jaskier squirmed and panted but Geralt was holding him steady with one hand while his other hands fingers started to keep a slow pace of stretching him wider and wider.

Jaskier in his position hadn't been able to see how big Geralt's cock was but he could only imagine as Geralt added a fourth finger. His hole was fully stretched now and he let out a whimper.

"Geralt, I'm going to come. Please, I need you inside me right now!" He squirmed some more and Geralt seemed to finally get the hint. He removed his fingers and Jaskier was a aware of him dipping his hand in oil and rubbing it around his cock so it would be slick enough for Jaskier have enter him.

He was then hoisted, as if he weighed nothing, on Geralt's lap. Geralt slowly inched his way inside of Jaskier, murmuring soft words and kissing every groan and plea from Jaskier's lips. 

Jaskier was used to bedding more women than men but Geralt's careful stretching made the stretch less painful and almost fully blissful. His thighs trembled with effort and he gave a small grunt has he fully bottomed out, his ass hitting Geralt's thighs. He leaned forward and panted heavily against Geralt's chest, taking his time to get used to the feeling. It wasn't a bad kind of uncomfortable, he felt full and the burning in his gut was instationable now. He started to rise and Geralt's finger gripped tighter around his hips as he went back down. He kept it slow as he adjusted, but was quickly lifting himself up more and practically slamming back down. 

Geralt was making enough grunts to show his pleasure as Jaskier sped up, bringing himself down from even higher up each time. Geralt was now joining in, thrusting up to chase after Jaskier and they finally reached a rhythm that had allowed them to be even closer than before. Jaskier's upper body was plastered to Geralt's upper half as the older man sucked and kissed at anywhere he could get. One of his hands sneaked down between them and started to jerk Jaskier off. Jaskier's hands dug into Geralt's shoulder, his nails sure to leave a mark, as he felt himself clenching.

"Geralt," he groaned in warning before he came all over himself and Geralt. The Witcher followed soon after, coming deep inside of Jaskier's hole. As he came Geralt bit down hard on Jaskier's un-injured shoulder, making Jaskier shiver.

Geralt lapped at the wound, and pulled out of Jaskier as the bard flopped backwards onto the mattress with no grace. His limbs felt like they had become jelly and he needed to catch his breath. He watched wordlessly as Geralt grabbed an article of clothing off the ground and wiped off Jaskier first and then himself. He titled his head towards the door, clearly listening for something, before he returned to the bed. He slid in beside Jaskier and wrapped himself tightly around Jaskier.

"I heard Yen and Triss moving around outside, they're probably impatient to see how you are."

Jaskier groaned and snuggled closer to Geralt.

"We would need to take a bath first. I'm not opening the door looking like I do now." Jaskier whined, pointing sluggishly to his wild hair and kissed lips. Geralt shrugged and slipped out of the bed. Jaskier wanted to follow but he still couldn't feel his legs properly. 

"Geralt, Geralt don't you dare!" Jaskier screeched.

The Witcher just opened the door wide to tell Triss and Yennefer to give them more time as he stood as naked as the day he was born.

Jaskier buried his head under the pillows and wished his lover could have the decency to not let Jaskier have a pretend sense of privacy from the two women outside.

††††

After a long bath and some _alone_ time together, Jaskier was now ready to face the two women. Geralt filled him in on how Pegasus' was getting along with Roach, and how all their things that Jaskier hadn't seen were tied up on Roach's back as Geralt wanted to get moving after that night.

Jaskier had stopped in the hallway on the way to the women's room and felt uncertain. 

Geralt quickly kissed him and reassured him that Jaskier was welcomed - more like wanted - and they could go wherever Jaskier wanted. An image of the coast came forth in his mind and was giddy when Triss opened the door and hugged him happily before leading him over to the table in her and Yennefer's room as they waited for someone from downstairs to bring up food. 

Jaskier figured since Triss and Yennefer were now well aware that he and Geralt had gotten together, then it was his right to wear one of Geralt's shirts. He had tucked it into a pair of his pale blue high-waisted pants - which really did show off his ass - but it kept sliding off his shoulder so he had to keep adjusting it, which meant he'd had Geralt so enthralled that the Witcher had tripped over a chair that Yennefer had pushed into his way.

The Witcher grumbled through her laughter and grabbed the chair to place it next to Jaskiers. 

"Well I'm glad we're all in a better mood now." Triss said happily as she took her own seat. Yennefer hovered by Jaskier for a second, looking at his bandage before giving a hum of satisfaction and going over to sit on Triss' other side. 

"Very good moods." Yennefer commented.

"Just because I'm getting sex and you're not-"

"Who said I wasn't?"

Jaskier's eyebrows went up in shock as he looked over at Triss who's face, neck, and ears were flushed dark red.

Heat of the moment after a battle didn't make sense as it'd been days since Jaskier had killed the witch and they'd all decimated Jean and his buddies. So maybe it wasn't an adrenaline thing? He looked over at Yennefer and was surprised to see her head turned away and her hair framing her face just enough to hide it. _Definitely_ not adrenaline then.

He threw a thumbs up at Triss who squeaked before returning with her own thumbs up.

" _Alright,_ now that, _that_ is out of the way, we have some matters to discuss."

Jaskier's good mode dampened. Right away his thoughts went back to the Bone Blade. The blade that _only_ he could wield.

"I wanted to get a better look at the blade, but to do so I would need to be back at my own place. All my equipment that I don't move around with me is there and I'd feel better being in a heavily warded area that I have complete control over." 

Jaskier felt some relief and also an unknown feeling of the blade being taken into her care. He had made his peace with her so the feeling of protectiveness over the blade could only be coming from the blade itself and that made him uneasy. 

"Be my guest, take the blade for as long as you want." His voice sounded weird to his own ears and he wanted to shrink in his seat as three pairs of eyes turned to him.

"I could have just taken the blade but I figured asking permission would be best. Though judging by your reaction you don't want to part with it. You could come with-"

"No!" Jaskier yelled, shocking them.

"No, I just. I'm fine with my daggers and throwing knives. I have no need for that blasted blade and yet I..." He trailed off and tried to relax as Geralt laid a comforting hand on his thigh.

"The residual magic left with it has connected itself to you." Yennefer said and Jaskier looked at her confused.

"You have an urge not to part with it right? Even though you don't want it? Jaskier you made a connection with it whether you wanted to or not when you picked it up. Like calls to like."

"Will I feel it forever then?" Jaskier asked bitterly.

Yennefer shook her head, "it should wear off as long as you don't use it. Using it strengthens your bond."

Jaskier bit at his finger nail and focused on Geralt's grounding touch. Maybe there would be a day when he would need it but it wasn't anywhere near now. He was quite happy without it. He said as much to Yennefer, giving her full access to blade. She offered to let him come visit. She meant it as in anytime and not just for the blade so Jaskier accepted. She seemed happy when he accepted and Jaskier felt a warm feeling in his chest.

A knock at the door came, signalling their food had arrived and as they ate lunch, Jaskier was confident that he officially had four friends, and that Geralt had once again moved to a new category. A category just for him and only him. Jaskier was still shitty at titles so he'd stick with love-of-his-life category and leave it at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! Thank you to everyone for your comments and kudos on this fic!!  
> I don't usually write smut so I hope I did them justice.


End file.
